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iMnmmmimtr ^H f -^^^|
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^^k
HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY
THE BEQUEST OP
Grenville L. Winthrop
1943
This book b not to be sold or exchaaged
§y£?^^^^^B^<)H»J^.J
ENGLISH SEAMEN
IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
WOEKS BY JAMES ANTHONY FEOUDE.
THE HISTOEY OF ENGLAND, from the Fall of Wolsey
to the Defeat of the Spanish Armada. 12 vols, crown 8vo. ds. 6d. each.
THE DIVOECE OF CATHEBINE OF AEAGON : the
story as told by the Imperial Ambassadors resident at the Court of
Henry VIII. Crown 8vo. 6«.
THE SPANISH STOBY OF THE ABMADA, and other
Essays. Crown 8yo. 6t.
CoKTENTS.— 1. Spanish Story of the Armada— 2. Antonio Perea : an
Unsolved Historical Kiddle— 3. Saint Teresa— 4. The Templars— 6. The
Norway Fjords — 6. Norway once more.
THE ENGLISH IN lEELAND IN THE EIGHTEENTH
CENTURY.
Cabinet Edition, 8 vols, crown Svo. 18s.
Popular Edition, 3 vols, crown Svo. 10*. W.
SHOBT STUDIES ON GBEAT SUBJECTS.
Cabinet Edition, 4 vols, crown Svo. 24«.
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LIFE AND LETTEBS OF EBASMUS. Crown Svo. 6s.
C^SAB : a Sketch. Crown Svo. 3s. Qd,
OCEANA ; or, England and her Colonies. With 9 Illustra-
tions. Crown Svo. 2s. boards ; 2s. Sd, cloth.
THE ENGLISH IN THE WEST INDIES ; or, the Bow of
Ulysses. With 9 Illustrations. Crown Svo. 2s. boards ; 2s. 6d. cloth.
THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUNBOY ; or, an Irish Bomance
of the Last Century. Crown Svo. Zs. 6d,
THOMAS CABLYLE : a History of his Life. With 3
Portraits. Crown Svo. Vols. I. and II. 7«. Vols. III. and IV. 7s,
London : LONGMANS, GBEEN, & CO.
ENGLISH SEAMEN
IN
THE SIXTEENTH CENTUEY
LECTURES DELIVERED AT OXFORD
EASTER TERMS 1893-4
BY
JAMES ANTHONY PEOUDE
LATE SEOIUS PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD
LONDON
LONGMANS, GEEEN, AND CO.
1895
All rights reserved
e
HARVARD^
UNiVVRSITYl
LIBi-;ARY
JUN 28 1955 i
CONTENTS
LECTUBB rAGB
I. THE SEA CEADLE OF THE REFORMATION . . 1
II. JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SI<AVE TRADE . 27
III. SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND . . 68
IV. drake's voyage round the world . . . 79
V. PARTIES IN THE STATE 110
VI. THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES • . 188
VII. ATTACK ON CADIZ 162
Vtlt. SAILING OF THE ARMADA 186
IX. DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 212
ENGLISH SEAMEN
IN THE
SIXTEENTH CENTUEY
LECTUEE I
THE SEA CEADLE OF THE BEFOBMATION
Jean Paul, the German poet, said that God had
given to France the empire of the land, to England
the empire of the sea, and to his own country the
empire of the air. The world has changed since
Jean Paul's days. The wings of France have been
clipped ; the German Empire has become a soKd
thing ; but England still holds her watery dominion ;
Britannia does still rule the waves, and in this
proud position she has spread the English race
over the globe ; she has created the great American
nation ; she is peopKng new Englands at the
Antipodes ; she has made her Queen Empress of
India ; and is in fact the very considerable pheno-
menon in the social and pohtical world which all
acknowledge her to be. And all this she has
B
ENGLISH SEAMEN
achieved in the course of three centuries, entirely
in consequence of her predominance as an ocean
power. Take away her merchant fleets ; take away
the navy that guards them : her empire will come
to an end ; her colonies will fall off, like leaves from
a withered tree ; and Britain will become once
more an insignificant island in the North Sea, for
the future students in Australian and New Zealand
universities to discuss the fate of in their debating
societies.
How the EngKsh navy came to hold so extra-
ordinary a position is worth reflecting on. Much
has been written about it, but little, as it seems to
me, which touches the heart of the matter. We
are shown the power of our country growing and
expanding. But how it grew, why, after a sleep of
so many hundred years, the genius of our Scandina-
vian forefathers suddenly sprang again into hf e — of
this we are left without explanation.
The beginning was undoubtedly the defeat of
the Spanish Armada in 1588. Down to that time
the sea sovereignty belonged to the Spaniards, and
had been fairly won by them. The conquest of
Granada had stimulated and elevated the Spanish
character. The subjects of Ferdinand and Isabella,
of Charles V. and PhiUp II., were extraordinary
men, and accomphshed extraordinary things. They
stretched the limits of the known world ; they con-
quered Mexico and Peru; they planted their
•colonies over the South American continent ; they
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 3
took possession of the great West Indian islands,
and with so firm a grasp that Cuba at least will
never lose the mark of the hand which seized it.
They built their cities as if for eternity. They
spread to the Indian Ocean, and gave their
monarch's name to the Philippines. All this they
accompKshed in half a century, and, as it were, they
did it with a single hand ; with the other they were
fighting Moor& and Turks and protecting the coast
of the Mediterranean from the corsairs of Tunis
and Constantinople.
They had risen on the crest of the wave, and
with their proud Non sufficit orbis were looking for
new worlds to conquer, at a time when the bark of
the EngUsh water-dogs had scarcely been heard
beyond their own fishing grounds, and the largest
merchant vessel saihng from the port of London was
scarce bigger than a modern coasting colher. And
yet within the space of a single ordinary life these
insignificant islanders had struck the sceptre from
the Spaniards' grasp and placed the ocean crown
on the brow of their own sovereign. How did it
come about ? What Cadmus had sown dragons'
teeth in the furrows of the sea for the race to spring
from who manned the ships of Queen Ehzabeth,
who carried the fiag of their own country round the
globe, and challenged and fought the Spaniards on
their own coasts and in their own harbours ?
The Enghsh sea power was the legitimate child
of the Keformation. It grew, as I shall show you,
b2
4 ENGLISH SEAMEN
directly out of the new despised Protestantism.
Matthew Parker and Bishop Jewel, the judicious
Hooker himself, excellent men as they were, would
have written and preached to small purpose without
Sir Prancis Drake's cannon to play an accompani-
ment to their teaching. And again, Drake's
cannon would not have roared so loudly and so
widely without seamen already trained in heart
and hand to work his ships and level his artillerj^
It was to the superior seamanship, the superior
quaKty of English ships and crews, that the Spani-
ards attributed their defeat. Where did these
ships come from ? Where and how did these
mariners learn their trade ? Historians talk en-
thusiastically of the national spirit of a people
rising with a united heart to repel the invader, and
so on. But national spirit could not extemporise
a fleet or produce trained officers and sailors to
match the conquerors of Lepanto. One shght
observation I must make here at starting, and
certainly with no invidious purpose. It has been
said confidently, it has been repeated, I believe, by
all modern writers, that the Spanish invasion sus-
pended in England the quarrels of creed, and united
Protestants and Koman Catholics in defence of
their Queen and country. They remind us es-
pecially that Lord Howard of EflBngham, who was
Elizabeth's admiral, was himself a Eoman Catholic.
But was it so ? The Earl of Arundel, the head of
the House of Howard, was a Eoman Catholic, and
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 5
he was in the Tower praying for the success of
Medina Sidonia. Lord Howard of Effingham was
no more a Roman Cathohc than — I hope I am not
taking away their character — than the present
Archbishop of Canterbury or the Bishop of London.
He was a Cathohc, but an Enghsh Cathohc, as
those reverend prelates are. Roman Cathohc he
could not possibly have been, nor anyone who on
that great occasion was found on the side of Eliza-
beth. A Roman Catholic is one who acknowledges
the Roman Bishop's authority. The Pope had
excommunicated Ehzabeth, had pronounced her
deposed, had absolved her subjects from their
allegiance, and forbidden them to fight for her.
No Enghshman who fought on that great occasion
for Enghsh liberty was, or could have been, in
communion with Rome. Loose statements of this
kind, lightly made, fall in with the modern humour.
They are caught up, applauded, repeated, and pass
unquestioned into history. It is time to correct
them a httle.
I have in my possession a detailed account of
the temper of parties in England, drawn up in the
year 1585, three years before the Armada came.
The writer was a distinguished Jesuit. The
account itself was prepared for the use of the Pope
and Phihp, with a special view to the reception
which an invading force would meet with, and it
goes into great detail. The people of the towns —
London, Bristol, &c. — were, he says, generally
6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
heretics. The peers, the gentry, their tenants, and
peasantry, who formed the immense majority of the
population, were almost universally Catholics. But
this writer distinguishes properly among Catholics.
There were the ardent impassioned CathoKcs, ready
to be confessors and martyrs, ready to rebel at the
first opportunity, who had renounced their alle-
giance, who desired to overthrow Elizabeth and
put the Queen of Scots in her place. The number
of these, he says, was daily increasing, owing to the
exertions of the seminary priests ; and plots, he
boasts, were being continually formed by them to
murder the Queen. There were CathoKcs of
another sort, who were papal at heart, but went
with the times to save their property ; who looked
forward to a change in the natural order of things,
but would not stir of themselves till an invading^
army actually appeared. But all ahke, he insists,
were eager for a revolution. Let the Prince of
Parma come, and they would all join him ; and
together these two classes of Cathohcs made three-
fourths of the nation.
' The only party,' he says (and this is really
noticeable), 'the only party that would fight to
death for the Queen, the only real friends she had,
were the Puritans (it is the first mention of the
name which I have found), the Puritans of London,,
the Puritans of the sea towns.' These he admits,
were dangerous, desperate, determined men..
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 7
The numbers of them, however, were providentially
small.
The date of this document is, as I said, 1585,
and I believe it generally accurate. The only
mistake is that among the AngKcan Cathohcs there
were a few to whom their country was as dear as
their creed — a few who were beginning to see that
under the Act of Uniformity Catholic doctrine
might be taught and Catholic ritual practised ; who
adhered to the old forms of religion, but did not
beHeve that obedience to the Pope was a necessary
part of them. One of these was Lord Howard of
Effingham, whom the Queen placed in his high
command to secure the wavering fidelity of the
peers and country gentlemen. But the force, the
fire, the enthusiasm came (as the Jesuit saw) from
the Puritans, from men of the same convictions as
the Calvinists of Holland and Eochelle ; men who,
driven from the land, took to the ocean as their
natural home, and nursed the Eeformation in an
ocean cradle. How the seagoing population of
the North of Europe took so strong a Protestant
impression it is the purpose of these lectures to
explain.
Henry VIII. on coming to the throne found
England without a fleet, and without a conscious
sense of the need of one. A few merchant hulks
traded with Bordeaux and Cadiz and Lisbon ; hoys
and fly-boats drifted slowly backwards and forwards
between Antwerp and the Thames. A fishing fleet
S ENGLISH SEAMEN
tolerably appointed went annually to Iceland for
cod. Local fishermen worked the North Sea and
the Channel from Hull to Falmouth. The Chester
people went to Kinsale for herrings and mackerel :
but that was all — the nation had aspired to no
more.
Columbus had offered the New World to Henry
VII. while the discovery was still in the air. He
had sent his brother to England with maps and
globes, and quotations from Plato to prove its
existence. Henry, Hke a practical Englishman,
treated it as a wild dream.
The dream had come from the gate of horn.
America was found, and the Spaniard, and not the
Enghsh, came into first possession of it. Still,
America was a large place, and John Cabot the
Venetian with his son Sebastian tried Henry again.
England might still be able to secure a slice. This
time Henry VII. listened. Two smaU ships were
fitted out at Bristol, crossed the Atlantic, discovered
Newfoundland, coasted down to Florida looking for
a passage to Cathay, but could not find one. The
elder Cabot died ; the younger came home. The
expedition failed, and no interest had been roused.
With the accession of Henry VIII. a new era
had opened — a new era in many senses. Printing
was coming into use — Erasmus and his companions
were shaking Europe with the new learning,
Copernican astronomy was changing the level disk
of the earth into a revolving globe, and turning
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 9
dizzy the thoughts of mankind. Imagination was
on the stretch. The reahty of things was assimaing
proportions vaster than fancy had dreamt, and mi-
fastening estabUshed beUef on a thousand sides.
The young Henry was welcomed by Erasmus as
Hkely to be the glory of the age that was opening.
He was young, brilliant, cultivated, and ambitious.
To what might he not aspire under the new con-
ditions ! Henry VIH. was all that, but he was
cautious and looked about him. Europe was full
of wars in which he was likely to be entangled.
His father had left the treasury well furnished.
The young King, like a wise man, turned his first
attention to the broad ditch, as he called the British
Channel, which formed the natural defence of the
realm. The opening of the Atlantic had revolution-
ised war and seamanship. Long voyages required
larger vessels. Henry was the first prince to see
the place which gunpowder was going to hold in
wars. In his first years he repaired his dockyards,
built new ships on improved models, and imported
Itahans to cast him new types of cannon. ' King
Harry loved a man,' it was said, and knew a man
when he saw one. He made acquaintance with
sea captains at Portsmouth and Southampton. In
some way or other he came to kno\v one Mr.
WilHam Hawkins, of Plymouth, and held him in
especial esteem. This Mr. Hawkins, under Henry's
patronage, ventured down to the coast of Guinea
and brought home gold and ivory ; crossed over to
lo ENGLISH SEAMEN
Brazil ; made friends with the Brazilian natives ;
even brought back with him the king of those
countries, who was curious to see what England
was hke, and presented him to Henry at Whitehall.
Another Plymouth man, Eobert Thome, again
with Henry's help, went out to look for the North-
west passage which Cabot had failed to find.
Thome's ship was called the Doviinus Vohiscurrij
a pious aspiration which, however, secured no suc-
cess. A London man, a Master Hore, tried next.
Master Hore, it is said, was given to cosmography,,
was a plausible talker at scientific meetings, and so
on. He persuaded ^ divers young lawyers ' (brief-
less barristers, I suppose) and other gentlemen —
altogether a hundred and twenty of them — to join
him. They procured two vessels at Gravesend.
They took the sacrament together before sailing.
They apparently rehed on Providence to take care
of them, for they made little other preparation.
They reached Newfoundland, but their stores ran
out, and their ships went on shore. In the land of
fish they did not know how to use line and bait.
They fed on roots and bilberries, and picked fish
bones out of the ospreys' nests. At last they began
to eat one another— careless of Master Hore, who
told them they would go to unquenchable fire. A
French vessel came in. They seized her with the
food she had on board and sailed home in her,
leaving the French crew to their fate. The poor
French happily found means of following them.
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION ir
They complained of their treatment, and Henry
ordered an inquiry ; but finding, the report says,
the great distress Master Hore's party had been in^
was so moved with pity, that he did not punish
them, but out of his own purse made royal re-
compense to the French.
Something better than gentlemen volunteers
was needed if naval enterprise was to come ta
anything in England. The long wars between
Francis I. and Charles V. brought the problem
closer. On land the fighting was between the
regular armies. At sea privateers were let loose
out of French, Flemish, and Spanish ports. Enter-
prising individuals took out letters of marque and
went cruising to take the chance of what they
could catch. The Channel was the chief hunting-
ground, as being the highway between Spain and
the Low Countries. The interval was short be-
tween privateers and pirates. Vessels of all sorts
passed into the business. The Scilly Isles became
a pirate stronghold. The creeks and estuaries in
Cork and Kerry furnished hiding-places where the
rovers could lie with security and share their
plunder \\dth the Irish chiefs. The disorder grew
wilder when the divorce of Catherine of Aragon
made Henry into the public enemy of Papal Europe.
English traders and fishing smacks were plundered
and sunk. Their crews went armed to defend
themselves, and from Thames mouth to Land's
End the Channel became the scene of desperate
12 ENGLISH SEAMEN
fights. The type of vessel altered to suit the new
conditions. Life depended on speed of saihng.
The State Papers describe squadrons of French
or Spaniards flying about, dashing into Dart-
mouth, Pljonouth, or Falmouth, cutting out Enghsh
•coasters, or fighting one another.
After Henry was excommunicated, and Ireland
rebelled, and England itself threatened disturbance,
the King had to look to his security. He made
httle noise about it. But the Spanish ambassador
reported him as silently building ships in the
Thames and at Portsmouth. As invasion seemed
imminent, he began with sweeping the seas of the
looser vermin. A few swift well-armed cruisers
pushed suddenly out of the Solent, caught and
destroyed a pirate fleet in Mount's Bay, sent to
the bottom some Flemish privateers in the Downs,
and captured the Flemish admiral himself. Danger
at home growing more menacing, and the monks
spreading the fire which grew into the Pilgrimage
of Grace, Henry suppressed the abbeys, sold the
lands, and with the proceeds armed the coast with
fortresses. ^ You threaten me,' he seemed to say
to them, ^ that you will use the wealth our fathers
gave you to overthrow my Government and bring
in the invader. I will take your wealth, and I will
use it to disappoint your treachery.' You may see
the remnants of Henry's work in the fortresses
anywhere along the coast from Berwick to the
Land's End.
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 13
Louder thundered the Vatican. In 1539
Henry's time appeared to have come. France
and Spain made peace, and the Pope's sentence
was now expected to be executed by Charles or
Francis, or both. A crowd of vessels large and
small was collected in the Scheldt, for what purpose
save to transport an army into England ? Scot-
land had joined the CathoHc League. Henry fear-
lessly appealed to the EngKsh people. Catholic
peers and priests might conspire against him, but,
explain it how we will, the nation was loyal to
Henry and came to his side. The London
merchants armed their ships in the river. From
the seaports everywhere came armed brigantines
and sloops. The fishermen of the West left their
boats and nets to their wives, and the fishing was
none the worse, for the women handled oar and
sail and line and went to the whiting grounds,
while their husbands had gone to fight for their
King. Genius kindled into discovery at the call of
the country. Mr. Fletcher of Eye (be his name
remembered) invented a boat the like of which was
never seen before, which would work to windward,
with sails trimmed fore and aft, the greatest
revolution yet made in shipbuilding. A hundred
and fifty sail collected at Sandwich to match the
armament in the Scheldt ; and Marillac, the French
ambassador, reported with amazement the energy
of King and people.
The Catholic Powers thought better of it. This
14 ENGLISH SEAMEN
was not the England which Eeginald Pole had told
them was longing for their appearance. The
Scheldt force dispersed. Henry read Scotland a
needed lesson. The Scots had thought to take him
at disadvantage, and sit on his back when the
Emperor attacked him. One morning when the
people at Leith woke out of their sleep, they found
an English fleet in the Eoads ; and before they had
time to look about them, Leith was on fire and
Edinburgh was taken. Charles V., if he had ever
seriously thought of invading Henry, returned to
wiser counsels, and made an alliance with him
instead. The Pope turned to France. If the
Emperor forsook him, the Most Christian King
would help. He promised Francis that if he could
win England he might keep it for himself. Francis
resolved to try what he could do.
Five years had passed since the gathering at
Sandwich. It was now the summer of 1644. The
records say that the French collected at Havre
near 300 vessels, fighting ships, galleys, and trans-
ports. Doubtless the numbers are far exaggerated,
but at any rate it was the largest force ever yet
got together to invade England, capable, if weU
handled, of bringing Henry to his knees. The
plan was to seize and occupy the Isle of Wight,
destroy the EngHsh fleet, then take Portsmouth
and Southampton, and so advance on London.
Henry's attention to his navy had not slackened.
He had built ship on ship. The Great Harry
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 15
was a thousand tons, carried 700 men, and was the
wonder of the day. There were a dozen others
scarcely less imposing. The King called again on
the nation, and again the nation answered. In Eng-
land altogether there were 150,000 men in arms in
field or garrison. In the King's fleet at Portsmouth
there were 12,000 seamen, and the privateers of the
West crowded up eagerly as before. It is strange,
with the notions which we have allowed ourselves
to form of Henry, to observe the enthusiasm with
which the whole country, as yet undivided by
doctrinal quarrels, ralhed a second time to defend
liim.
In this Portsmouth fleet lay undeveloped the
genius of the future naval greatness of England.
A smaU fact connected with it is worth recording.
The watchword on board was ^ God save the King ' ;
the answer was, ^ Long to reign over us ' : the
earhest germ discoverable of the English National
Anthem.
The King had come himself to Portsmouth to
witness the expected attack. The fleet was com-
manded by Lord Lisle, afterwards Duke of North-
umberland. It was the middle of July. The
French crossed from Havre unf ought with, and
anchored in St. Helens Eoads off Brading Harbour.
The EngKsh, being greatly inferior in numbers, lay
waiting for theiii inside the Spit. The morning
after the French came in was still and sultry. The
English could not move for want of wind. The
i6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
galleys crossed over and engaged them for two or
three hours with some advantage. The breeze rose
at noon ; a few fast sloops got under way and
easily drove them back. But the same breeze
which enabled the English to move brought a
serious calamity with it. The Mary Bose, one of
Lisle's finest vessels, had been under the fire of the
galleys. Her ports had been left open, and when
the wind sprang up, she heeled over, filled, and
went down, carrying two hundred men along with
her. The French saw her sink, and thought their
own guns had done it. They hoped to follow up
their success. At night they sent over boats to
take soundings, and discover the way into the
harbour. The boats reported that the sandbanks
made the approach impossible. The French had
no clear plan of action. They tried a landing in
the island, but the force was too small, and failed.
They weighed anchor and brought up again behind
Selsea Bill, where Lisle proposed to run them
down in the dark, taking advantage of the tide.
But they had an enemy to deal with worse than
Lisle, on board their own ships, which explained
their distracted movements. Hot weather, putrid
meat, and putrid water had prostrated whole ships'
companies with dysentery. After a three weeks'
ineffectual cruise they had to hasten back to Havre,
break up, and disperse. The first great armament
which was to have recovered England to the
Papacy had effected nothing. Henry had once
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 17
more shown his strength, and was left undisputed
master of the narrow seas.
So matters stood for what remained of Henry's
reign. As far as he had gone, he had quarrelled
with the Pope, and had brought the Church under
the law. So far the country generally had gone
with him, and there had been no violent changes
in the administration of religion. When Henry
died the Protector aboUshed the old creed, and
created a new and perilous cleavage between
Protestant and Catholic, and, while England needed
the protection of a navy more than ever, allowed
the fine fleet which Henry had left to fall into decay.
The spirit of enterprise grew with the Eeformation.
Merchant companies opened trade with Eussia and
the Levant ; adventurous sea captains went to
Guinea for gold. Sir Hugh Willoughby followed
the phantom of the North-west Passage, turning
eastward round the North Cape to look for it, and
perished in the ice. EngUsh commerce was begin-
ning to grow in spite of the Protector's experiments ;
but a new and infinitely dangerous element had
been introduced by the change of religion into the
relations of English sailors with the Cathohc Powers,
and especially with Spain. In their zeal to keep
out heresy, the Spanish Government placed their
harbours under the control of the Holy Office.
Any vessel in which an heretical book was found
was confiscated, and her crew carried to the Inqui-
sition prisons. It had begun in Henry's time.
c
i8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
The Inquisitors attempted to treat schism as heresy
and arrest Englishmen in their ports. But Henry-
spoke up stoutly to Charles V., and the Holy Office
had been made to hold its hand. All was altered
now. It was not necessary that a poor sailor
should have been found teaching heresy. It was
enough if he had an Enghsh Bible and Prayer
Book with him in his kit ; and stories would come
into Dartmouth or Plymouth how some lad that
everybody knew— Bill or Jack or Tom, who had
wife or father or mother among them, perhaps —
had been seized hold of for no other crime, been
flung into a dungeon, tortured, starved, set to work
in the galleys, or burned in a fool's coat, as they
called it, at an auto da f6 at Seville.
The object of the Inquisition was partly politi-
cal : it was meant to embarrass trade and make the
people impatient of changes which produced so
much inconvenience. The effect was exactly the
opposite. Such accounts when brought home
created fury. There grew up in the seagoing
population an enthusiasm of hatred for that holy
institution, and a passionate desire for revenge.
The natural remedy would have been war ; but
the division of nations was crossed by the division
of creeds ; and each nation had allies in the heart
of every other. If England went to war with Spain,
Spain could encourage insurrection among the
Catholics. If Spain or France declared war against
England, England could help the Huguenots or the
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 19
Holland Calvinists. All Governments were afraid
alike of a general war of religion which might shake
Europe in pieces. Thus individuals were left to
their natural impulses. The Holy Ofl&ce burnt
EngHsh or French Protestants wherever it could
catch them. The Protestants revenged their
injuries at their own risk and in their own way,
and thus from Edward VI. 's time to the end of
the century privateering came to be the special
occupation of adventurous honourable gentlemen,
who could serve God, their country, and themselves
in fighting Catholics. Fleets of these dangerous
vessels swept the Channel, Ijang in wait at Scilly,
or even at the Azores — disowned in public by their
own Governments while secretly countenanced,
making war on their own account on what they
called the enemies of God. In such a business, of
course, there were many mere pirates engaged who
cared neither for God nor man. But it was the
Protestants who were specially impelled into it by
the cruelties of the Inquisition. The Holy Office
began the work with the autos da fe. The privateers
robbed, burnt, and scuttled Catholic ships in
retaUation. One fierce deed produced another, till
right and wrong were obscured in the passion of
reKgious hatred. Vivid pictures of these wild
doings survive in the EngHsh and Spanish State
Papers. Ireland was the rovers' favourite haunt.
In the universal anarchy there, a little more or a
little less did not signify. Notorious pirate cap-
2
20 ENGLISH SEAMEN
tains were to be met in Cork or Kinsale, collecting
stores, casting cannon, or selling their prizes — men
of all sorts, from fanatical saints to undisguised
rufi&ans. Here is one incident out of many to show
the heights to which temper had risen.
^Long peace,' says someone, addressing the
Privy Council early in Ehzabeth's time, ' becomes
by force of the Spanish Inquisition more hurtful
than open war. It is the secret, determined policy
of Spain to destroy the English fleet, pilots,
masters and sailors, by means of the Inquisition.
The Spanish King pretends he dares not ofiend the
Holy House, while we in England say we may not
proclaim war against Spain in revenge of a few.
Not long since the Spanish Inquisition executed
sixty persons of St. Malo, notwithstanding entreaty
to the King of Spain to spare them. Whereupon
the Frenchmen armed their pinnaces, lay for the
Spaniards, took a hundred and beheaded them,
sending the Spanish ships to the shore with their
heads, leaving in each ship but one man to render
the cause of the revenge. Since which time
Spanish Inquisitors have never meddled with those
of St. Malo.'
A colony of Huguenot refugees had settled on
the coast of Florida. The Spaniards heard of it,
came from St. Domingo, burnt the town, and hanged
every man, woman, and child, leaving an inscription
explaining that the poor creatures had been kiUed,
not as Frenchmen, but as heretics. Domenique de
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 21
Gourges, of Kochelle, heard of this fine exploit of
fanaticism, equipped a ship, and sailed across. He
caught the Spanish garrison which had been left
in occupation and swung them on the same trees —
with a second scroll saying that they were dangling
there, not as Spaniards, but as murderers.
The genius of adventure tempted men of highest
birth into the rovers' ranks. Sir Thomas Seymour,
the Protector's brother and the King's uncle, was
Lord High Admiral. In his time of ofi&ce, com-
plaints were made by foreign merchants of ships
and property seized at the Thames mouth. No
redress could be had ; no restitution made ; no
pirate was even punished, and Seymour's personal
followers were seen suspiciously decorated with
Spanish ornaments. It appeared at last that Sey-
mour had himself bought the Scilly Isles, and if he
could not have his way at Court, it was said that
he meant to set up there as a pirate chief.
The persecution under Mary brought in more
respectable recruits than Seymour. The younger
generation of the western families had grown with
the times. If they were not theologically Protes-
tant, they detested tyranny. They detested the
marriage with Phihp, which threatened the inde-
pendence of England. At home they were power-
less, but the sons of honourable houses — Strang-
ways, Tremaynes, Stafiords, Horseys, Carews,
Killegrews, and Cobhams — dashed out upon the
water to revenge the Smithfield massacres. They
22 ENGLISH SEAMEN
found help where it could least have been loot;ed
for. Henry II. of France hated heresy, but he
hated Spain worse. Sooner than see England
absorbed in the Spanish monarchy, he forgot his
bigotry in his politics. He furnished these young
mutineers with ships and money and letters of
marque. The Huguenots were their natural friends.
With Eochelle for an arsenal, they held the mouth
of the Channel, and harassed the communications
between Cadiz and Antwerp. It was a wild busi-
ness : enterprise and buccaneering sanctified by
reUgion and hatred of cruelty ; but it was a school
like no other for seamanship, and a school for the
building of vessels which could outsail all others on
the sea ; a school, too, for the training up of hardy
men, in whose blood ran detestation of the Inquisi-
tion and the Inquisition's master. Every other
trade was swallowed up or coloured by privateering ;
the merchantmen went armed, ready for any work
that offered ; the Iceland fleet went no more in
search of cod ; the Channel boatmen forsook nets
and hnes and took to livelier occupations ; Mary
was too busy burning heretics to look to the police
of the seas ; her father's fine ships rotted in har-
bour; her father's coast-forts were deserted or
dismantled ; she lost Calais ; she lost the hearts of
her people in forcing them into orthodoxy ; she left
the seas to the privateers ; and no trade flourished,
save what the Catholic powers called piracy.
When EHzabeth came to the throne, the whole
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 23
merchant navy of England engaged in lawful com-
merce amounted to no more than 50,000 tons.
You may see more now passing every day through
the Gull Stream. In the service of the Crown
there were but seven revenue cruisers in commis-
sion, the largest 120 tons, with eight merchant
brigs altered for fighting. In harbour there were
still a score of large ships, but they were dismantled
and rotting ; of artillery fit for sea work there was
none. The men were not to be had, and, as Sir
William Cecil said, to fit out ships without men was
to set armour on stakes on the sea-shore. The
mariners of England were otherwise engaged, and
in a way which did not please Cecil. He was the
ablest minister that Elizabeth had. He saw at
once that on the navy the prosperity and even the
liberty of England must eventually depend. If
England were to remain Protestant, it was not by
articles of religion or acts of uniformity that she
could be saved without a fleet at the back of them.
But he was old-fashioned. He beheved in law and
order, and he has left a curious paper of reflections
on the situation. The ships' companies in Henry
VIII.'s days were recruited from the fishing smacks,
but the Reformation itself had destroyed the fishing
trade. In old times, Cecil said, no flesh was eaten
on fish days. The King himself could not have
license. Now to eat beef or mutton on fish days
was the test of a true believer. The English Ice-
land fishery used to supply Normandy and Brittany
24 ENGLISH SEAMEN
as well as England. Now it had passed to the
French. The Chester men used to fish the Irish
seas. Now they had left them to the Scots. The
fishermen had taken to privateering because the
fasts of the Church were neglected. He saw it was
so. He recorded his own opinion that piracy, as
he called it, was detestable^ and could not last. He
was to find that it could last, that it was to form
the special discipline of the generation whose busi-
ness would be to fight the Spaniards. But he
struggled hard against the unwelcome conclusion.
He tried to revive lawful trade by a Navigation
Act. He tried to restore the fisheries by Act of
Parliament. He introduced a Bill recommending
godly abstinence as a means to virtue, making the
eating of meat on Fridays and Saturdays a misde-
meanour, and adding Wednesday as a half fish-day.
The House of Commons laughed at him as bringing
back Popish mummeries. To please the Protes-
tants he inserted a clause, that the statute was
politicly meant for the increase of fishermen and
mariners, not for any superstition in the choice of
meats ; but it was no use. The Act was called in
mockery ' Cecil's Fast,' and the recovery of the
fisheries had to wait till the natural inclination of
human stomachs for fresh whiting and salt cod
should revive of itself.
Events had to take their course. Seamen were
duly provided in other ways, and such as the time
required. Privateering suited Ehzabeth's con-
THE SEA CRADLE OF THE REFORMATION 25.
venience, and suited her disposition. She liked
daring and adventure. She liked men who would
do her work without being paid for it, men whom
she could disown when expedient ; who would
understand her, and would not resent it. She knew
her turn was to come when Phihp had leisure to
deal with her, if she could not secure herself mean-
while. Time was wanted to restore the navy. The
privateers were a resource in the interval. They
might be called pirates while there was formal
peace. The name did not signify. They were
really the armed force of the country. After the
war broke out in the Netherlands, they had com-
missions from the Prince of Orange. Such com-
missions would not save them if taken by Spain,
but it enabled them to sell their prizes, and for the
rest they trusted to their speed and their guns.
When EUzabeth was at war with France about
Havre, she took the most noted of them into the
sei*vice of the Crown. Ned Horsey became Sir
Edward and Governor of the Isle of Wight ;
Strangways, a Red Eover in his way, who had
been the terror of the Spaniards, was killed before
Rouen ; Tremayne fell at Havre, mourned over by
Ehzabeth ; and Champernowne, one of the most
gallant of the whole of them, was killed afterwards
at Coligny's side at Moncontour.
But others took their places : the wild hawks as
thick as seagulls flashing over the waves, fair wind
or foul, laughing at pursuit, brave, reckless, devoted,
the crews the strangest medley : English from the
26 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Devonshire and Cornish creeks, Huguenots from
Kochelle ; Irish kernes with long skenes, ' desperate,
unruly persons with no kind of mercy.'
The Holy Office meanwhile went on in cold,
savage resolution : the Holy Office which had begun
the business and was the cause of it.
A note in Cecil's hand says that in the one year
1562 twenty-six Enghsh subjects had been burnt
at the stake in different parts of Spain. Ten times
as many were starving in Spanish dungeons, from
which occasionally, by happy accident, a cry could
be heard hke this which follows. In 1561 an
Enghsh merchant writes from the Canaries :
' I was taken by those of the Inquisition twenty
months past, put into a little dark house two paces
long, loaded with irons, without sight of sun or
moon all that time. When I was arraigned I was
charged that I should say our mass was as good as
theirs ; that I said I would rather give money to
the poor than buy Bulls of Rome with it. I was
charged with being a subject to the Queen's grace,
who, they said, was enemy to the faith. Antichrist,
with other opprobrious names ; and I stood to the
defence of the Queen's Majesty, proving the in-
famies most untrue. Then I was put into Little
Ease again, protesting very innocent blood to be
demanded against the judge before Christ.'
The innocent blood of these poor victims had
not to wait to be avenged at the Judgment Day.
The account was presented shortly and promptly at
the cannon's mouth.
27
LECTUKE II
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFEICAN SLAVE TEABE
I BEGIN this lecture with a petition addressed to
Queen EUzabeth. Thomas Seely, a merchant of
Bristol, hearing a Spaniard in a Spanish port utter
foul and slanderous charges against the Queen's
character, knocked him down. To knock a man
down for teUing Hes about Elizabeth might be a
breach of the peace, but it had not yet been de-
clared heresy. The Holy Ofl&ce, however, seized
Seely, threw him into a dungeon, and kept him
starving there for three years, at the end of which
he contrived to make his condition known in
England. The Queen wrote herself to Philip to
protest. PhiUp would not interfere. Seely re-
mained in prison and in irons, and the result was a
petition from his wife, in which the temper which
was rising can be read as in letters of fire.
Dorothy Seely demands that 'the friends of her
Majesty's subjects so imprisoned and tormented in
Spain may make out ships at their proper charges,
take such Inquisitors or other Papistical subjects
of the King of Spain as they can by sea or land,
28 ENGLISH SEAMEN
and retain them in prison with such torments and
diet as her Majesty's subjects be kept with in
Spain, and on complaint made by the Ejng to give
such answer as is now made when her Majesty
sues for subjects imprisoned by the Inquisition.
Or that a Commission be granted to the Archbishop
of Canterbury and the other bishops word for word
for foreign Papists as the Inquisitors have in Spain
for the Protestants. So that all may know that her
Majesty cannot and will not longer endure the
spoils and torments of her subjects, and the Spani-
ards shall not think this noble realm dares not
seek revenge of such importable wrongs.'
Elizabeth issued no such Commission as Dorothy
Seely asked for, but she did leave her subjects to
seek their revenge in their own way, and they
sought it sometimes too rashly.
In the summer of 1563 eight English merchant-
men anchored in the roads of Gibraltar. England
and France were then at war. A French brig came
in after them, and brought up near. At sea, if
they could take her, she would have been a lawful
prize. Spaniards under similar circumstances had
not respected the neutrality of English harbours.
The Englishmen were perhaps in doubt what to
do, when the officers of the Holy Office came off to
the French ship. The sight of the black familiars
drove the English wild. Three of them made a
dash at the French ship, intending to sink her.
The Inquisitors sprang into their boat, and rowed
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLA\TE TRADE 29
for their lives. The castle guns opened, and the
harbour police put out to interfere. The French ship,
however, would have been taken, when unluckily
Alvarez de Ba9an, with a Spanish squadron, came
round into the Straits. Resistance was impossible.
The eight EngUsh ships were captured and carried
off to Cadiz. The EngUsh flag was trailed under
De Bafan's stem. The crews, two hundred and
forty men in all, were promptly condemned to the
galleys. In defence they could but say that the
Frenchman was an enemy, and a moderate punish-
ment would have sufficed for a ^'ioIation of the
harbour rules which the Spaniards themselves so
little regarded. But the Inquisition was inexor-
able, and the men were treated with such peculiar
brutality that after nine months ninety only of the
two hundred and forty were alive.
Ferocity was answered by ferocity. Listen to
this ! The Cobhams of Cowling Castle were Pro-
testants by descent. Lord Cobham was famous in
the Lollard martyrology. Thomas Cobham, one of
the family, had taken to the sea like many of his
friends. While cruising in the Channel he caught
sight of a Spaniard on the way from Antwerp to
Cadiz wdth forty prisoners on board, consigned, it
might be supposed, to the Inquisition. They were,
of course. Inquisition prisoners ; for other offenders
would have been dealt with on the spot. Cobham
chased her down into the Bay of Biscay, took
her, scuttled her, and rescued the captives. But
30 ENGLISH SEAMEN
that was not enough. The captain and crew he
sewed up in their own mainsail and flung them over-
board. They were washed ashore dead, wrapped
in their extraordinary winding-sheet. Cobham was
called to account for this exploit, but he does not
seem to have been actually punished. In a very
short time he was out and away again at the
old work. There were plenty with him. After
the business at Gibraltar, Phihp's subjects w^ere
not safe in English harbours. Jacques le Clerc, a
noted privateer, called Pie de Palo from his wooden
leg, chased a Spaniard into Falmouth, and was
allowed to take her under the guns of Pendennis.
The Governor of the castle said that he could not
interfere, because Le Clerc had a commission from
the Prince of Conde. It was proved that in the
summer of 15G3 there were 400 English and
Huguenot rovers in and about the Channel, and
that they had taken 700 prizes between them.
The Queen's own ships followed suit. Captain
Cotton in the Phoenix captured an Antwerp mer-
chantman in Flushing. The harbour-master pro-
tested. Cotton laughed, and sailed away with his
prize. The Regent Margaret wrote in indignation
to Elizabeth. Such insolence, she said, was not
to be endured. She would have Captain Cotton
chastised as an example to all others. Elizabeth
measured the situation more correctly than the
Regent ; she preferred to show Philip that she was
not afraid of him. She preferred to let her subjects
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 31
discover for themselves that the terrible Spaniard
before whom the world trembled was but a colossus
stuffed with clouts. Until Philip consented to tie
the hands of the Holy Office she did not mean to
prevent them from taking the law into their own
hands.
Now and then, if occasion required, Ehzabeth
herself would do a little privateering on her own
account. In the next story that I have to tell she
appears as a principal, and her great minister, Cecil,
as an accompUce. The Duke of Alva had suc-
ceeded Margaret as Eegent of the Netherlands,
and was drowning heresy in its own blood. The
Prince of Orange was making a noble fight ; but all
went ill with him. His troops were defeated, his
brother Louis was killed. He was still struggling,
helped by Elizabeth's money. But the odds were
terrible, and the only hope lay in the discontent of
Alva's soldiers, who had not been paid their wages,
and would not fight without them. Philip's
finances were not flourishing, but he had borrowed
half a million ducats from a house at Genoa for
Alva's use. The money was to be delivered in
bullion at Antwerp. The Channel privateers heard
that it was coming and were on the look-out for it.
The vessel in which it was sent took refuge in
Plymouth, but found she had run into the enemy's
nest. Nineteen or twenty Huguenot and English
cruisers lay round her with commissions from
Conde to take every Cathohc ship they met with.
32 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Elizabeth's special friends thought and said freely
that so rich a prize ought to fall to no one but her
Majesty. EUzabeth thought the same, but for a
more honourable reason. It was of the highest
consequence that the money should not reach the
Duke of Alva at that moment. Even Cecil said so,
and sent the Prince of Orange word that it would
be stopped in some way.
But how could it decently be done ? Bishop
Jewel reUeved the Queen's mind (if it was ever
disturbed) on the moral side of the question. The
bishop held that it would be meritorious in a high
degree to intercept a treasure which was to be used
in the murder of Protestant Christians. But the
how was the problem. To let the privateers take
it openly in Plymouth harbour would, it was felt,
be a scandal. Sir Arthur ChampernowTie, the Vice-
admiral of the West, saw the difficulty and offered
his services. He had three vessels of his own in
Conde's privateer fleet, under his son Henry. As
vice-admiral he was first in command at Plymouth.
He placed a guard on board the treasure ship, telling
the captain it would be a discredit to the Queen's
Government if harm befell her in English waters.
He then wrote to Cecil.
' If,' he said, ' it shall seem good to your honour
that I with others shall give the attempt for her
Majesty's use which cannot be without blood, I will
not only take it in hand, but also receive the blame
thereof unto myself, to the end so great a commodity
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 33
should redound to her Grace, hoping that, after
bitter storms of her displeasure, showed at the first to
colour the fact, I shall find the cahn of her favour
in such sort as I am most wilhng to hazard myself
to serve her Majesty. Great pity it were such a rich
booty should escape her Grace. But surely I am
of that mind that anything taken from that
Avicked nation is both necessary and profitable to
our commonwealth.'
Very shocking on Sir Arthur's part to write such
^ letter : so many good people will think. I hope
iihey will consider it equally shocking that King
Thilip should have burned Enghsh sailors at the
stake because they were loyal to the laws of their
own country; that he was stirring war all over
Europe to please the Pope, and thrusting the doc-
trines of the Council of Trent down the throats of
mankind at the sword's point. Spain and England
might be at peace ; Eomanism and Protestantism
were at deadly war, and war suspends the obhga-
tions of ordinary life. Crimes the most horrible
were held to be virtues in defence of the Catholic
faith. The Catholics could not have the advantage
of such indulgences without the inconveniences.
The Protestant cause throughout Europe was one,
and assailed as the Protestants were with such
envenomed ferocity, they could not afford to be
nicely scrupulous in the means they used to defend
themselves.
Sir Arthur Champernowne was not called on to
D
34 ENGLISH SEAMEN
sacrifice himself in such peculiar fashion, and a
better expedient was found to secure Alva's money.
The bullion was landed and was brought to London
by road on the plea that the seas were unsafe. It
was carried to the Tower, and when it was once
inside the walls it was found to remain the property
of the Genoese until it was delivered at Antwerp.
The Genoese agent in London was as wiUing to
lend it to Elizabeth as to Philip, and indeed pre-
ferred the security. Ehzabeth calmly said that
she had herself occasion for money, and would
accept their offer. Half of it was sent to the
Prince of Orange ; half was spent on the Queen's
navy.
A] va was of course violently angry. He arrested
every English ship in the Low Countries. He
arrested every Enghshman that he could catch, and
sequestered all English property. Elizabeth re-
tahated in kind. The Spanish and Flemish
property taken in England proved to be worth
double what had been secured by Alva. Philip
could not declare war. The Netherlands insurrec-
tion was straining his resources, and with Elizabeth
for an open enemy the whole weight of England
would have been thrown on the side of the Prince
of Orange. Ehzabeth herself should have declared
war, people say, instead of condescending to
such tricks. Perhaps so ; but also perhaps not.
These insults, steadily maintained and unresented,
shook the faith of inankind, and especially of her
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 35
own sailors, in the invincibility of the Spanish
colossus.
I am now to turn to another side of the subject.
The stories which I have told you show the temper
of the time, and the atmosphere which men were
breathing, but it will be instructive to look more
closely at individual persons, and I will take first
John Hawkins (afterwards Sir John), a peculiarly
characteristic figure.
The Hawkinses of Plymouth were a solid middle-
class Devonshire family, who for two generations
had taken a leading part in the business of the town.
They still survive in the county — ^Achins we used
to call them before school pronunciation came in,
and so Philip wrote the name when the famous
John began to trouble his dreams. I have already
spoken of old William Hawkins, John's father,
whom Henry VIII. was so fond of, and who brought
over the BraziHan King. Old WiUiam had now
retired and had left his place and his work to his
son. John Hawkins may have been about thirty
at EUzabeth's accession. He had witnessed the
wild times of Edward VI. and Mary, but, though
many of his friends had taken to the privateering
business, Hawkins appears to have kept clear of
it, and continued steadily at trade. One of these
friends, and his contemporary, and in fact his near
relation, was Thomas Stukely, afterwards so no-
torious — and a word may be said of Stukely's
career as a contrast to that of Hawkins. He was
D 2
36 ENGLISH SEAMEN
a younger son of a leading county family, went to
London to seek his fortune, and became a hanger-
on of Sir Thomas Seymour. Doubtless he was con-
nected with Seymour's pirating scheme at Scilly,
and took to pirating as an occupation like other
Western gentlemen. When Elizabeth became
•Queen, he introduced himself at Court and amused
her with his conceit. He meant to be a king,
nothing less than a king. He would go to Florida,
found an empire there, and write to the Queen as
his dearest sister. She gave him leave to try. He
bought a vessel of 400 tons, got 100 tall soldiers to
join him besides the crew, and sailed from Plymouth
in 15G3. Once out of harbour, he announced that
the sea was to be his Florida. He went back to
the pirate business, robbed freely, haunted Irish
creeks, and set up an intimacy with the Ulster
herd, Shan O'Neil. Shan and Stukely became
bosom friends. Shan wrote to Elizabeth to re-
commend that she should make over Ireland to
Stukely and himself to manage, and promised, if
she agreed, to make it such an Ireland as had never
been seen, which they probably would. Elizabeth
not consenting, Stukely turned Papist, transferred
his services to the Pope and Philip, and was pre-
paring a campaign in Ireland under the Pope's
direction, when he was tempted to join Sebastian
of Portugal in the African expedition, and there got
himself killed.
Stukely was a specimen of the foolish sort of the
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 37
young Devonshire men ; Hawkins was exactly his
opposite. He stuck to business, avoided pohtics,
traded with Spanish ports without offending the
Holy Office, and formed intimacies and connec-
tions with the Canary Islands especially, where it
was said ^ he grew much in love and favour with
the people.'
At the Canaries he naturally heard much about
the West Indies. He was adventurous. His Cana-
ries friends told him that negroes were great mer-
chandise in the Spanish settlements in Espanola,
and he himself was intimately acquainted with the
Guinea coast, and knew how easily such a cargo
could be obtained.
We know to what the slave trade grew. We
have all learnt to repent of the share which England
had in it, and to abhor everyone whose hands were
stained by contact with so accursed a business.
All that may be taken for granted ; but we must
look at the matter as it would have been repre-
sented at the Canaries to Hawkins himself.
The Carib races whom the Spaniards found in
Cuba and St. Domingo had withered before them
as if struck by a blight. Many died under the lash
of the Spanish overseers ; many, perhaps the most,
from the mysterious causes which have made the
presence of civiHsation so fatal to the Eed Indian,
the Australian, and the Maori. It is with men as
it is with animals. The races which consent to be
domesticated prosper and multiply. Those which
38 ENGLISH SEAMEN
cannot live without freedom pine like caged eagles
or disappear like the buflEaloes of the prairies.
Anyway, the natives perished out of the islands
of the Caribbean Sea with a rapidity which startled
the conquerors. The famous Bishop Las Casas
pitied and tried to save the remnant that were left.
The Spanish settlers required labourers for the
plantations. On the continent of Africa were
another race, savage in their natural state, which
would domesticate Uke sheep and oxen, and learnt
and improved in the white man's company. The
negro never rose of himself out of barbarism ; as
his fathers were, so he remained from age to age ;
when left free, as in Liberia and in Hayti, he reverts
to his original barbarism ; while in subjection to
the white man he showed then, and he has shown
since, high capacities of intellect and character.
Such is, such was the fact. It struck Las Casas
that if negroes could be introduced into the West
Indian islands, the Indians might be left alone ;
the negroes themselves would have a chance to
rise out of their wretchedness, could be made into
Christians, and could be saved at worst from the
horrid fate which awaited many of them in their
own country.
The black races varied like other animals :
some were gentle and timid, some were ferocious
as wolves. The strong tyrannised over the weak,
made slaves of their prisoners, occasionally ate
them, and those they did not eat they sacrificed at
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 39
what they called their customs — oflEered them up
and cut their throats at the altars of their idols.
These customs were the most sacred traditions of
the negro race. They were suspended while the
slave trade gave the prisoners a value. They
revived when the slave trade was abohshed. When
Lord Wolseley a few years back entered Ashantee,
the altars were coated thick with the blood of
hundreds of miserable beings who had been freshly
slaughtered there. Still later similar horrid scenes
were reported from Dahomey. Sir Eichard Burton,
who was an old acquaintance of mine, spent two
months with the King of Dahomey, and dilated to
me on the benevolence and enlightenment of that
•excellent monarch. I asked why, if the King was
so benevolent, he did not alter the customs.
Burton looked at me with consternation. ^ Alter
the customs ! ' he said. ' Would you have the
Archbishop of Canterbury alter the Liturgy ? '
Las Casas and those who thought as he did are not
to be charged with infamous inhumanity if they
proposed to buy these poor creatures from their
captors, save them from Mumbo Jumbo, and carry
thein to countries where they would be valuable
property, and be at least as well cared for as the
mules and horses.
The experiment was tried and seemed to suc-
ceed. The negroes who were rescued from the
customs and were carried to the Spanish islands
proved docile and useful. Portuguese and Spanish
40 ENGLISH SEAMEN
factories were established on the coast of Guinea.
The black chiefs were glad to make money out of
their wretched victims, and readily sold them.
The transport over the Atlantic became a regular
branch of business. Strict laws were made for the
good treatment of the slaves on the plantations.
The trade was carried on under license from the
Government, and an import duty of thirty ducats
per head was charged on every negro that was.
landed. T call it an experiment. The full conse-
quences could not be foreseen, and I cannot see
that as an experiment it merits the censures which
in its later developments it eventually came to
deserve. Las Casas, who approved of it, was one
of the most excellent of men. Our own Bishop
Butler could give no decided opinion against negro
slavery as it existed in his time. It is absurd to
say that ordinary merchants and ship captains
ought to have seen the infamy of a practice which
Las Casas advised and Butler could not condemn.
The Spanish and Portuguese Governments claimed,
as I said, the control of the traffic. The Spanish
settlers in the West Indies objected to a restriction
which raised the price and shortened the supply.
They considered that having estabhshed themselves
in a new country they had a right to a voice in the
conditions of their occupancy. It was thus that
the Spaniards in the Canaries represented the
matter to John Hawkins. They told him that if
he liked to make the venture with a contraband
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 41
cargo from Guinea, their countrymen would give
him an enthusiastic welcome. It is evident from
the story that neither he nor they expected that
serious offence would be taken at Madrid. Hawkins
at this time was entirely friendly with the Spaniards.
It was enough if he could be assured that the
colonists would be glad to deal with him.
I am not crediting him with the benevolent
purposes of Las Casas. I do not suppose Hawkins
thought much of saving black men's souls. He
saw only an opportunity of extending his business
among a people with whom he was already largely
connected. The traffic was established. It had
the sanction of the Church, and no objection had
been raised to it anywhere on the score of morality.
The only question which could have presented itself
to Hawkins was of the right of the Spanish Govern-
ment to prevent foreigners from getting a share of
a lucrative trade against the wishes of its subjects.
And his friends at the Canaries certainly did not
lead him to expect any real opposition. One
regrets that a famous Englishman should have
been connected with the slave trade ; but we have
no right to heap violent censures upon him because
he was no more enlightened than the wisest of his
contemporaries.
Thus, encouraged from Santa Cruz, Hawkins on
his return to England formed an African company
out of the leading citizens of London. Three
vessels were fitted out, Hawkins being commander
42 ENGLISH SEAMEN
and part owner. The size of them is remarkable :
the Solomon^ as the largest was called, 120 tons ;
the Swallow^ 100 tons ; the Jonas not above 40 tons.
This represents them as inconceivably small. They
carried between them a hundred men, and ample
room had to be provided besides for the blacks.
There may have been a diflEerence in the measure-
ment of tonnage. We ourselves have five stan-
dards : builder's measurement, yacht measurement,
displacement, sail area, and register measurement.
Eegistered tonnage is far under the others : a yacht
registered 120 tons would be called 200 in a ship-
ping hst. However that be, the brigantines and
sloops used by the EUzabethans on all adventurous
expeditions were mere boats compared with what
we should use now on such occasions. The reason
was obvious. Success depended on speed and
sailing power. The art of building big square-
rigged ships which would work to windward had
not been yet discovered, even by Mr. Fletcher of
Eye. The fore-and-aft rig alone would enable a
vessel to tack, as it is called, and this could only be
used with craft of moderate tonnage.
The expedition sailed in October 1662. They
■called at the Canaries, where they were warmly
entertained. They went on to Sierra Leone, where
they collected 300 negroes. They avoided the
Government factories, and picked them up as they
could, some by force, some by negotiation with
local chiefs, who were as ready to sell their subjects
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 43
as Sancho Panza intended to be when he got his
island. They crossed without misadventure to St.
Domingo, where Hawkins represented that he was
on a voyage of discovery ; that he had been driven
out of his course and wanted food and money. He
said he had certain slaves with him, which he asked
permission to sell. What he had heard at the
Canaries turned out to be exactly true. So far as
the Governor of St. Domingo knew, Spain and Eng-
land were at peace. Privateers had not troubled
th6 peace of the Caribbean Sea, or dangerous here-
tics menaced the Catholic faith there. Inquisitors
might have been suspicious, but the Inquisition had
not yet been estabUshed beyond the Atlantic. The
Queen of England was his sovereign's sister-in-law,
and the Governor saw no reason why he should
construe his general instructions too literally. ^ The
planters were eager to buy, and he did not wish to
be unpopular. He allowed Hawkins to sell two out
of his three hundred negroes, leaving the remaining
hundred as a deposit should question be raised
about the duty. Evidently the only doubt in the
Governor's mind was whether the Madrid authori-
ties would charge foreign importers on a higher
scale. The question was new. No stranger had
as yet attempted to trade there.
Everyone was satisfied, except the negroes, who
were not asked their opinion. The profits were
enormous. A ship in the harbour was about to
sail for Cadiz. Hawkins invested most of what he
44 ENGLISH SEAMEN
had made in a cargo of hides, for which, as he
understood, there was a demand in Spain, and he
sent them over in her in charge of one of his
partners. The Governor gave him a testimonial for
good conduct during his stay in the port, and with
this and with his three vessels he returned leisurely
to England, having, as he imagined, been splendidly
successful.
He was to be unpleasantly undeceived. A few
days after he had arrived at Pl3anouth, he met the
man whom he had sent to Cadiz with the hides for-
lorn and empty-handed. The Inquisition, he said,
had seized the cargo and confiscated it. An order
had been sent to St. Domingo to forfeit the reserved
slaves. He himself had escaped for his Ufe, as the
familiars had been after him.
Nothing shows more clearly how little thought
there had been in Hawkins that his voyage would
have given ojBfence in Spain than the astonishment
with which he heard the news. He protested. He
wrote to Philip. Finding entreaties useless, he
swore vengeance ; but threats were equally ineffec-
tual. Not a hide, not a farthing could he recover.
The Spanish Government, terrified at the intrusion
of English adventurers into their western paradise
to endanger the gold fleets, or worse to endanger
the purity of the faith, issued orders more peremp-
tory than ever to close the ports there against all
foreigners. Philip personally warned Sir Thomas
Chaloner, the English ambassador, that if such
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 45
visits were repeated, mischief would come of it.
And Cecil, who disHked all such semi-piratical
enterprises, and Chaloner, who was half a Spaniard
and an old companion in arms of Charles V., en-
treated their mistress to forbid them.
Elizabeth, however, had her own views in such
matters. She Uked money. She liked encou-
raging the adventurous disposition of her subjects,
who were fighting the State's battles at their own
risk and cost. She saw in Philip's anger a confes-
sion that the West Indies was his vulnerable
point ; and that if she wished to frighten him into
letting her alone, and to keep the Inquisition from
burning her sailors, there was the place where
Philip would be more sensitive. Probably, too, she
thought that Hawkins had done nothing for which
lie could be justly blamed. He had traded at St.
Domingo with the Governor's consent, and confis*
cation was sharp practice.
This was clearly Hawkins's own view of the
matter. He had injured no one. He had offended
no pious ears by parading his Protestantism. He
was not Philip's subject, and was not to be expected
to know the instructions given by the Spanish Go-
vernment in the remote corners of their dominions.
If anyone was to be punished, it was not he but
the Governor. He held that he had been robbed,
and had a right to indemnify himself at the King's
expense. He would go out again. He was certain
of a cordial reception from the planters. Between
46 ENGLISH SEAMEN
him and them there was the friendhest understand-
ing. His quarrel was with PhiHp, and PhiUp only.
He meant to sell a fresh cargo of negroes, and the
Madrid Government should go without their 30 per
cent. duty.
EHzabeth approved. Hawkins had opened the
road to the West Indies. He had shown how easy
slave smuggling was, and how profitable it was ;
how it was also possible for the English to establish
friendly relations \\dth the Spanish settlers in the
West Indies, whether Phihp liked it or not. An-
other company was formed for a second trial.
Elizabeth took shares. Lord Pembroke took shares,
and other members of the Council. The Queen lent
the Jesus, a large ship of her own, of 700 tons.
Formal instructions were given that no wrong was
to be done to the Ejng of Spain, but what wrong
might mean was left to the discretion of the com-
mander. Where the planters were all eager to pur-
chase, means of traflBc would be discovered without
collision with the authorities. This time the
expedition was to be on a larger scale, and a hun-
dred soldiers were put on board to provide for con-
tingencies. Thus furnished, Hawkins started on
his second voyage in October 1664. The autumn
was chosen, to avoid the extreme tropical heats.
He touched as before to see his friends at the
Canaries. He went on to the Eio Grande, met
with adventures bad and good, found a chief at war
with a neighbouring tribe, helped to capture a to\\Ti
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 47
and take prisoners, made purchases at a Portu-
guese factory. In this way he now secured 400
human cattle, perhaps for a better fate than they
would have met wTth at home, and wdth these he
sailed off in the old direction. Near the equator
he fell in with calms ; he was short of water, and
feared to lose some of them ; but, as the record of
the voyage puts it, ^ Almighty God would not suffer
His elect to perish,' and sent a breeze which carried
him safe to Dominica. In that wettest of islands
he found water in plenty, and had then to consider
what next he would do. St. Domingo, he thought,
would be no longer safe for him ; so he struck
across to the Spanish Main to a place called Bur-
boroata, where he might hope that nothing would
be known about him. In this he was mistaken.
Philip's orders had arrived : no Englishman of any
creed or kind was to be allowed to trade in his
West India dominions. The settlers, however, in-
tended to trade. They required only a display of
force that they might pretend that they were
yielding to compulsion. Hawkins told his old story.
He said that he was out on the service of the Queen
of England. He had been driven off his course by
bad weather. He was short of supplies and had
many men on board, who might do the town some
mischief if they were not allowed to land peace-
ably and buy and sell what they wanted. The
Governor affecting to hesitate, he threw 120
men on shore, and brought his guns to bear
48 ENGLISH SEAMEN
on the castle. The Governor gave way under pro-
test. Hawkins was to be permitted to sell half his
negroes. He said that as he had been treated so
inhospitably he would not pay the 30 per cent.
The King of Spain should have 7^, and no more.
The settlers had no objection. The price would be
the less, and with this deduction his business was
easily finished off. He bought no more hides, and
was paid in solid silver.
From Burboroata he went on to Kio de la Hacha,
where the same scene was repeated. The whole
400 were disposed of, this time with ease and
complete success. He had been rapid, and had
the season still before him. Having finished his
business, he surveyed a large part of the Caribbean
Sea, taking soundings, noting the currents, and
making charts of the coasts and islands. This
done, he turned homewards, following the east
shore of North America as far as Newfoundland.
There he gave his crew a change of diet, with fresh
cod from the Banks, and after eleven months'
absence he sailed into Padstow, having lost but
twenty men in the whole adventure, and bringing
back 60 per cent, to the Queen and the other
shareholders.
Nothing succeeds like success. Hawkins's
praises were in everyone's mouth, and in London
he was the hero of the hour. Elizabeth received
him at the palace. The Spanish ambassador, De
Silva, met him there at dinner. He talked freely
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 49
of where he had been and of what he had done,
only keeping back the gentle violence which he
Ihad used. He regarded this as a mere farce, since
i)here had been no one hurt on either side. He
l)oasted of having given the greatest satisfaction to
the Spaniards who had dealt with him. De Silva
could but bow, report to his master, and ask instruc-
tions how he was to proceed.
Phihp was frightfully disturbed. He saw in
prospect his western subjects allying themselves
with the English — heresy creeping in among them ;
his gold fleets in danger, all the possibilities with
which Ehzabeth had wished to alarm him. He
read and re-read De Silva's letters, and opposite
the name of Achines he wrote startled interjections
on the margin : ' Ojo ! Ojo ! '
The poHtical horizon was just then favourable
to Ehzabeth. The Queen of Scots was a prisoner
in Loch Leven ; the Netherlands were in revolt ;
the Huguenots were looking up in France ; and
when Hawkins proposed a third expedition, she
thought that she could safely allow it. She gave him
the use of the Jesus again, with another smaller
ship of hers, the Minion, He had two of his own
still fit for work ; and a fifth, the Judith^ was
brought in by his young cousin, Francis Drake, who
was now to make his first appearance on the stage.
I shall tell you by-and-by who and what Drake
was. Enough to say now that he was a relation of
Hawkins, the owner of a small smart sloop or
E
50 ENGLISH SEAMEN
brigantine, and ambitious of a share in a stirring
business.
The Plymouth seamen were falling into dan-
gerous contempt of Philip. While the expedition
was fitting out, a ship of the Ejng's came into Cat-
water with more prisoners from Flanders. She
was flying the Castilian flag, contrary to rule, it
was said, in Enghsh harbours. The treatment of
the English ensign at Gibraltar had not been for-
given, and Hawkins ordered the Spanish captain
to strike his colours. The captain refused, and
Hawkins instantly fired into him. In the confusion
the prisoners escaped on board the Jesus and were
let go. The captain sent a complaint to London,
and Cecil — who disapproved of Hawkins and all
his proceedings — sent down an oflScer to inquire
into what had happened. Hawkins, confident in
Elizabeth's protection, quietly answered that the
Spaniard had broken the laws of the port, and
that it was necessary to assert the Queen's
authority.
^ Your mariners,' said De Silva to her, ^ rob our
subjects on the sea, trade where they are forbidden
to go, and fire upon our ships in your harbours.
Your preachers insult my master from their pulpits,
and when we remonstrate we are answered with
menaces. We have borne so far with their injuries,
attributing them rather to temper and bad manners
than to dehberate purpose. But, seeing that no
redress can be had, and that the same treatment
JOHN HAWKINS AND THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE 51
of US continues, I must consult my Sovereign's
pleasure. For the last time, I require your Majesty
to punish this outrage at Pljnnouth and preserve
iihe peace between the two realms.'
No remonstrance could seem more just till the
other side was heard. The other side was that the
I^ope and the Catholic powers were undertaking to
force the Protestants of France and Flanders back
xnnder the Papacy with fire and sword. It was no
secret that England's turn was to follow as soon as
hilip's hands were free. Meanwhile he had been
ntriguing with the Queen of Scots ; he had been
mcouraging Ireland in rebellion ; he had been per-
ecuting Enghsh merchants and seamen, starving
^hem to death in the Inquisition dungeons, or burn-
ing them at the stake. The Smithfield infamies
^were fresh in Protestant memories, and who could
i;ell how soon the horrid work would begin again
s,t home, if the Catholic powers could have their
^ay?
If the King of Spain and his Hohness at Eome
ivould have allowed other nations to think and
make laws for themselves, pirates and privateers
would have disappeared off the ocean. The West
Indies would have been left undisturbed, and
Spanish, English, French, and Flemings would
have lived peacefully side by side as they do now.
But spiritual tyranny had not yet learned its lesson,
and the ^ Beggars of the Sea ' were to be Philip's
schoolmasters in irregular but effective fashion.
n 2
52 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Elizabeth listened politely to what De Si-
said, promised to examine into his complaints, a
allowed Hawkins to sail.
What befell him you will hear in the n<
lecture.
53
LECTUKE III
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND
My last lecture left Hawkins preparing to start on
his third and, as it proved, most eventful voyage.
I mentioned that he was joined by a young relation,
of whom I must say a few preliminary words.
Francis Drake was a Devonshire man, hke Hawkins
himself and Kaleigh and Davis and Gilbert, and
many other famous men of those days. He was
bom at Tavistock somewhere about 1540. He
told Camden that he was of mean extraction. He
meant merely that he was proud of his parents and
made no idle pretensions to noble birth. His father
was a tenant of the Earl of Bedford, and must have
stood well with him, for Francis Kussell, the heir
of the earldom, was the boy's godfather. From
him Drake took his Christian name. The Drakes
were early converts to Protestantism. Trouble
rising at Tavistock on the Six Articles Bill, they
removed to Kent, where the father, probably
through Lord Bedford's influence, was appointed a
lay chaplain in Henry VIH.'s fleet at Chatham.
In the next reign, when the Protestants were upper-
most, he was ordained and became vicar of Upnor
54 ENGLISH SEAMEN
on the Medway. Young Francis took early to the
water, and made acquaintance with a ship-master
trading to the Channel ports, who took him on
board his ship and bred him as a sailor. The boy
distinguished himself, and his patron when he died
left Drake his vessel in his will. For several years
Drake stuck steadily to his coasting work, made
money, and made a soHd reputation. His ambition
grew with his success. The seagoing EngHsh were
all full of Hawkins and his West Indian exploits.
The Hawkinses and the Drakes were near relations.
Hearing that there was to be another expedition,
and having obtained his cousin's consent, Francis
Drake sold his brig, bought the Judith^ a handier
and faster vessel, and with a few stout sailors from
the river went down to Plymouth and joined.
De Silva had sent word to PhiHp that Hawkins
was again going out, and preparations had been
made to receive him. Suspecting nothing, Hawkins
with his four consorts sailed, as before, in October
1667. The start was ominous. He was caught
and badly knocked about by an equinoctial in the
Bay of Biscay. He lost his boats. The Jesus
strained her timbers and leaked, and he so little
liked the look of things that he even thought of
turning back and giving up the expedition for the
season. However, the weather mended. They put
themselves to rights at the Canaries, picked up
their spirits, and proceeded. The slave-catching
was managed successfully, though with some
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 55
increased difficulty. The cargo with equal success
ivas disposed of at the Spanish settlements. At
one place the planters came off in their boats at
night to buy. At Eio de la Hacha, where the most
imperative orders had been sent to forbid his
admittance, Hawkins landed a force as before and
took possession of the town, of course with the
connivance of the settlers. At Carthagena he was
similarly ordered off, and as Carthagena was
strongly fortified he did not venture to meddle with
it. But elsewhere he found ample markets for his
wares. He sold all his blacks. By this and by
other dealings he had collected what is described
as a vast treasure of gold, silver, and jewels. The
hurricane season was approaching, and he made the
best of his way homewards with his spoils, in the
fear of being overtaken by it. Unluckily for him,
he had lingered too long. He had passed the west
point of Cuba and was working up the back of the
island when a hurricane came down on him. The
gale lasted four days. The ships' bottoms were
foul and they could make no way. Spars were lost
and rigging carried away. The Jesus^ which had
not been seaworthy all along, leaked worse than
ever and lost her rudder. Hawkins looked for some
port in Florida, but found the coast shallow and
dangerous, and was at last obliged to run for
San Juan de Ulloa, at the bottom of the Gulf of
Mexico.
San Juan de Ulloa is a few miles only from
56 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Vera Cruz. It was at that time the chief port of
Mexico, through which all the traffic passed between
the colony and the mother-country, and was thus a
place of some consequence. It stands on a small
bay facing towards the north. Across the mouth
of this bay Hes a narrow ridge of sand and shingle,
half a mile long, which acts as a natural break-
water and forms the harbour. This ridge, or island
as it was called, was uninhabited, but it had been
faced on the inner front by a wall. The water was
deep alongside, and vessels could thus He in perfect
security, secured by their cables to rings let into
the masonry.
The prevailing wind was from the north, bringing
in a heavy surf on the back of the island. There
was an opening at both ends, but only one available
for vessels of large draught. In this the channel
was narrow, and a battery at the end of the break-
water would completely command it. The town
stood on the opposite side of the bay.
Into a Spanish port thus constructed Hawkins
entered with his battered squadron on September
16, 1568. He could not have felt entirely easy. But
he probably thought that he had no ill-will to fear
from the inhabitants generally, and that the Spanish
authorities would not be strong enough to meddle
with him. His ill star had brought him there at a
time when Alvarez de Ba^an, the same officer who
had destroyed the English ships at Gibraltar, was
daily expected from Spain — sent by Philip, as it
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 57
proved, specially to look for him. Haw kins, when
he appeared outside, had been mistaken for the
Spanish admiral, and it was under this impression
that he had been allowed to enter. The error was
quickly discovered on both sides.
Though still ignorant that he was himself De
Ba9an's particular object, yet De Ba9an was the
last ofl&cer whom in his crippled condition he would
have cared to encounter. Several Spanish mer-
chantmen were in the port richly loaded : with
these of course he did not meddle, though, if rein-
forced, they might perhaps meddle with him. As
his best resource he despatched a courier on the
instant to Mexico to inform the Viceroy of his
arrival, to say that he had an Enghsh squadron
with him ; that he had been driven in by stress of
weather and need of repairs ; that the Queen was
an ally of the King of Spain ; and that, as he
understood a Spanish fleet was likely soon to arrive,
he begged the Viceroy to make arrangements to
prevent disputes.
As yet, as I said in the last lecture, there was
no Inquisition in Mexico. It was established there
three years later, for the special benefit of the Eng-.
lish. But so far there was no ill-will towards the
Enghsh — rather the contrary. Hawkins had hurt
no one, and the negro trading had been eminently
popular. The Viceroy might perhaps have connived
at Hawkins's escape, but again by ill-fortune he
was himself under orders of recall, and his sue-
58 ENGLISH SEAMEN
cesser was coming out in this particular fleet with
De Bagan.
Had he been well disposed and free to act it
would still have been too late, for the very next
morning, September 17, De Ba9an was off the har-
bour mouth with thirteen heavily armed galleons
and frigates. The smallest of them carried pro-
bably 200 men, and the odds were now tremendous.
Hawkins's vessels lay ranged along the inner bank
or wall of the island. He instantly occupied the
island itself and mounted guns at the point cover-
ing the way in. He then sent a boat off to De
Bafan to say that he was an Enghshman, that he
was in possession of the port, and must forbid the
entrance of the Spanish fleet till he was assured
that there was to be no violence. It was a strong
measure to shut a Spanish admiral out of a Spanish
port in a time of profound peace. Still, the way in
was difficult, and could not be easily forced if
resolutely defended. The northerly wind was
rising ; if it blew into a gale the Spaniards would
be on a lee shore. Under desperate circumstances,
desperate things will be done. Hawkins in his
subsequent report thus explains his dilemma : —
' I was in two difficulties. Either I must keep
them out of the port, which with God's grace I
could easily have done, in which case with a
northerly wind rising they would have been
wrecked, and I should have been answerable ; or I
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 59
must risk their playing false, which on the whole
I preferred to do.'
The northerly gale it appears did not rise, or
the English commander might have preferred the
first alternative. Three days passed in negotiation.
De Ba9an and Don Enriquez, the new Viceroy, were
naturally anxious to get into shelter out of a
dangerous position, and were equally desirous not
to promise any more than was absolutely necessary.
The final agreement was that De Ba9an and the
fleet should enter without opposition. Hawkins
might stay till he had repaired his damages, and
buy and sell what he wanted ; and further, as long
as they remained the English were to keep
possession of the island. This article, Hawkins
says, was long resisted, but was consented to at
last. It was absolutely necessary, for with the
island in their hands, the Spaniards had only to
cut the English cables, and they would have driven
ashore across the harbour.
The treaty so drawn was formally signed.
Hostages were given on both sides, and De Ba9an
came in. The two fleets were moored as far apart
from each other as the size of the port would allow.
Courtesies were exchanged, and for two days all
went well. It is likely that the Viceroy and the ad-
miral did not at first know that it was the very man
whom they had been sent out to sink or capture
who was lying so close to them. When they did
know it they may have looked on him as a pirate,
6o ENGLISH SEAMEN
with whom, as with heretics, there was no need to
keep faith. Any way, the rat was in the trap, and
De Ba9an did not mean to let him out. The
Jesus lay furthest in ; the Minion lay beyond
her towards the entrance, moored apparently to a
ring on the quay, but free to move ; and the
Judith^ further out again, moored in the same
way. Nothing is said of the two small vessels
remaining.
De Bafan made his preparations silently,
covered by the town. He had men in abundance
ready to act where he should direct. On the third
day, the 20th of September, at noon, the Minion^s
crew had gone to dinner, when they saw a large hulk
of 900 tons slowly towing up alongside of them. Not
liking such a neighbour, they had their cable ready
to slip and began to set their canvas. On a sudden
shots and cries were heard from the town. Parties
of English who were on land were set upon ; many
were killed ; the rest were seen flinging themselves
into the water and swimming off to the ships. At
the same instant the guns of the galleons and of
the shore batteries opened fire on the Jesus and
her consorts, and in the smoke and confusion
300 Spaniards swarmed out of the hulk and
sprang on the Minion's decks. The Minion's
men instantly cut them down or drove them over-
board, hoisted sail, and forced their way out of
the harbour, followed by the Judith, The Jesus
was left alone, unable to stir. She defended her-
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 6i
self desperately. In the many actions which were
fought afterwards between the English and the
Spaniards, there was never any more gallant or
more severe. De Ba9an's own ship was sunk and
the vice-admiral's was set on fire. The Spanish,
having an enormous advantage in numbers, were
able to land a force on the island, seize the English
battery there, cut down the gunners, and turn the
guns close at hand on the devoted Jesus. Still she
fought on, defeating every attempt to board, till at
length De Bagan sent down fire-ships on her, and
then the end came. All that Hawkins had made
by his voyage, money, bullion, the ship herself, had
to be left to their fate. Hawkins himself with the
survivors of the crew took to their boats, dashed
through the enemy, who vainly tried to take them,
and struggled out after the Minion and the Judith,
It speaks ill for De Ba9an that with so large a force
at his command, and in such a position, a single
Englishman escaped to tell the story.
Even when outside Hawkins's situation was still
critical and might well be called desperate. The
Judith was but fifty tons ; the Minion not above
a hundred. They were now crowded up with
men. They had little water on board, and there
had been no time to refill their store-chests, or fit
themselves for sea. Happily the weather was
moderate. If the wind had risen, nothing could
have saved them. They anchored two miles off to
put themselves in some sort of order. The Spanish
62 ENGLISH SEAMEN
fleet did not venture to molest further so desperate
a foe. On Saturday the 25th they set sail, scarcely
knowing whither to turn. To attempt an ocean
voyage as they were would be certain destruction,
yet they could not trust longer to De Ba9an's
cowardice or forbearance. There was supposed to
be a shelter of some kind somewhere on the east
side of the Gulf of Mexico, where it was hoped they
might obtain provisions. They reached the place
on October 8, but found nothing. Enghsh sailors
have never been wanting in resolution. They
knew that if they all remained on board every one
of them must starve. A hundred volunteered to
land and take their chance. The rest on short
rations might hope to make their way home. The
sacrifice was accepted. The hundred men were
put on shore. They wandered for a few days in
the woods, feeding on roots and berries, and shot
at by the Indians. At length they reached a
Spanish station, where they were taken and sent as
prisoners to Mexico. There was, as I said, no
Holy Office as yet in Mexico. The new Viceroy,
though he had been in the fight at San Juan de
UUoa, was not implacable. They were treated at
first with humanity ; they were fed, clothed, taken
care of, and then distributed among the planta-.
tions. Some were employed as overseers, some as
mechanics. Others, who understood any kind of
business, were allowed to settle in towns, make
money, and even marry and establish themselves.
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 63
Perhaps Philip heard of it, and was afraid that so
many heretics might introduce the plague. The
quiet time lasted three years ; at the end of those
years the Inquisitors arrived, and then, as if these
poor men had been the special object of that
dehghtful institution, they were hunted up, thrown
into dungeons, examined on their faith, tortured,
some burnt in an auto daf6^ some lashed through
the streets of Mexico naked on horseback and
returned to their prisons. Those who did not die
under this pious treatment were passed over to the
Holy Office at Seville and were condemned to the
galleys.
Here I leave them for the moment. We shall
presently hear of them again in a very singular
connection. The Minion and Judith meanwhile
pursued their melancholy way. They parted
company. The Judith^ being the better sailer,
arrived first, and reached Plymouth in December,
torn and tattered. Drake rode off post immediately
to carry the bad news to London. The Minion's
fate was worse. She made her course through the
Bahama Channel, her crew dying as if struck with
a pestilence, till at last there were hardly men
enough left to handle the sails. They fell too far
south for England, and at length had to put into
Vigo, where their probable fate would be a Spanish
prison. Happily they found other English vessels
in the roads there. Fresh hands were put on board,
and fresh provisions. With these supplies Hawkins
64 ENGLISH SEAMEN
reached Mount's Bay a month later than the
Juditliy in January 1569.
Drake had told the story, and all England was
ringing with it. EngHshmen always think their
own countrymen are in the right. The Spaniards,
already in evil odour with the sea-going population,
were accused of abominable treachery. The splen-
did fight which Hawkins had made raised him into
a national idol, and though he had suffered financi-
ally, his loss was made up in reputation and autho-
rity. Every privateer in the West was eager to
serve under the leadership of the hero of San Juan
de UUoa. He speedily found himself in command
of a large irregular squadron, and even Cecil recog-
nised his consequence. His chief and constant
anxiety was for the comrades whom he had left
behind, and he talked of a new expedition to recover
them, or revenge them if they had been killed ;
but all things had to wait. They probably found
means of communicating with him, and as long as
there was no Inquisition in Mexico, he may have
learnt that there was no immediate occasion for
action.
Elizabeth put a brave face on her disappoint-
ment. She knew that she was surrounded with
treason, but she knew also that the boldest course
was the safest. She had taken Alva's money, and
was less than ever incHned to restore it. She had
the best of the bargain in the arrest of the Spanish
and English ships and cargoes. Alva would not
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 65
encourage Philip to declare war with England till
the Netherlands were completely reduced, and
PhiKp, with his leaden foot {jpi6 de ploino), always
preferred patience and intrigue. Time and he and
the Pope were three powers which in the end, he
thought, would prove irresistible, and indeed it
seemed, after Hawkins's return, as if Philip would
turn out to be right. The presence of the Queen
of Scots in England had set in flame the CathoHc
nobles. The wages of Alva's troops had been
wrung somehow out of the wretched Provinces, and
his supreme ability and inexorable resolution were
steadily grinding down the revolt. Every port in
Holland and Zealand was in Alva's hands. Eliza-
beth's throne was undermined by the Ridolfi con-
spiracy, the most dangerous which she had ever had
to encounter. The only Protestant fighting power
left on the sea which could be entirely depended
on was in the privateer fleet, saihng, most of them,
under a commission from the Prince of Orange.
This fleet was the strangest phenomenon in
naval history. It was half Dutch, half Enghsh,
with a flavour of Huguenot, and was commanded
by a Flemish noble. Count de la Mark. Its head-
quarters were in the Downs or Dover Eoads, where
it could watch the narrow seas, and seize every
Spanish ship that passed which was not too strong
to be meddled with. The cargoes taken were
openly sold in Dover market. If the Spanish
ambassador is to be believed in a complaint which
F
66 ENGLISH SEAMEN
he addressed to Cecil, Spanish gentlemen taken
prisoners were set up to pubhc auction there for
the ransom which they would fetch, and were dis-
posed of for one hundred pounds each. If Alva
sent cruisers from Antwerp to bum them out, they
retreated under the guns of Dover Castle. Roving
squadrons of them flew down to the Spanish coasts,
pillaged churches, carried off church plate, and the
captains drank success to piracy at their banquets
out of chaHces. The Spanish merchants at last
estimated the property destroyed at three mil-
lion ducats, and they said that if their flag could
no longer protect them, they must decline to make
further contracts for the supply of the Netherlands
army.
It was life or death to EHzabeth. The Ridolfi
plot, an elaborate and far-reaching conspiracy to
give her crown to Mary Stuart and to make away
with heresy, was all but complete. The Pope and
Philip had approved ; Alva was to invade ; the
Duke of Norfolk was to head an insurrection in the
Eastern Counties. Never had she been in greater
danger. Elizabeth was herself to be murdered.
The intention was known, but the particulars of
the conspiracy had been kept so secret that she had
not evidence enough to take measures to protect
herself. The privateers at Dover were a sort of
protection ; they would at least make Alva's crossing
more difficult ; but the most pressing exigency was
the discovery of the details of the treason. Nothing
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 67
was to be gained by concession ; the only salvation
was in daring.
At Antwerp there was a certain Doctor Story,
maintained by Alva there to keep a watch on
English heretics. Story had been a persecutor
under Mary, and had defended heretic burning in
Elizabeth's first Parliament. He had refused the
oath of allegiance, had left the country, and had
taken to treason. Cecil wanted evidence, and this
man he knew could give it. A pretended informer
brought Story word that there was an English
vessel in the Scheldt which he would find worth
examining. Story was tempted on board. The
hatches were closed over ^im. He was delivered
two days after at the Tower, when his secrets were
squeezed out of him by the rack and he was then
hanged.
Something was learnt, but less still than Cecil
needed to take measures to protect the Queen. And
now once more, and in a new character, we are to
meet John Hawkins. Three years had passed since
the catastrophe at San Juan de UUoa. He had
learnt to his sorrow that his poor companions had
fallen into the hands of the Holy Office at last ; had
been burnt, lashed, starved in dungeons or worked
in chains in the Seville yards ; and his heart, not
a very tender one, bled at the thoughts of them.
The finest feature in the seamen of those days was
their devotion to one another. Hawkins determined
that, one way or other, these old comrades of his
V 2
68 ENGLISH SEAMEN
should be rescued. Entreaties were useless ; force
was impossible. There might still be a chance with
cunning. He would risk anything, even the loss of
his soul, to save them.
De Silva had left England. The Spanish am-
bassador was now Don Guerau or Gerald de Espes,
and to him had fallen the task of watching and
directing the conspiracy. Phihp was to give the
signal, the Duke of Norfolk and other Catholic
peers were to rise and proclaim the Queen of Scots.
Success would depend on the extent of the dis-
affection in England itself ; and the ambassador's
business was to welcome and encourage all
symptoms of discontent. Hawkins knew generally
what was going on, and he saw in it an opportunity
of approaching Phihp on his weak side. Having
been so much in the Canaries, he probably spoke
Spanish fluently. He called on Don Guerau,
and with audacious coolness represented that
he and many of his friends were dissatisfied with
the Queen's service. He said he had found her
faithless and ungrateful, and he and they would
gladly transfer their allegiance to the King of
Spain, if the King of Spain would receive them.
For himself, he would undertake to bring over the
whole privateer fleet of the West, and in return he
asked for nothing but the release of a few poor
English seamen who were in prison at Seville.
Don Guerau was full of the behef that the whole
nation was ready to rebel. He eagerly swallowed
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 69
the bait which Hawkins threw to him. He wrote
to Alva, he wrote to Phihp's secretary, Cayas,
expatiating on the importance of securing such an
addition to their party. It was true, he admitted,
that Hawkins had been a pirate, but piracy was a
common fault of the EngHsh, and no wonder when
the Spaniards submitted to being plundered so
meekly ; the man who was offering his services was
bold, resolute, capable, and had great influence
with the English sailors ; he strongly advised that
such a recruit should be encouraged.
Alva would not hsten. Philip, wl^o shuddered
at the very name of Hawkins, was incredulous.
Don Guerau had to tell Sir John that the King at
present declined his offer, but advised him to go
himself to Madrid, or to send some confidential
friend with assurances and explanations.
Another figure now enters on the scene, a
George Fitzwilham. I do not know who he was, or
why Hawkins chose him for his purpose. The
Duke of Feria was one of Philip's most trusted
ministers. He had married an Enghsh lady who
had been a maid of honour to Queen Mary. It is
possible that Fitzwilham had some acquaintance
with her or with her family. At any rate, he went
to the Spanish Court ; he addressed himself to the
Ferias ; he won their confidence, and by their
means was admitted to an interview with Phihp.
He represented Hawkins as a faithful Cathohc who
was indignant at the progress of heresy in England,
(70 ENGLISH SEAMEN
who was eager to assist in the overthrow of EK-
zabeth and the elevation of the Queen of Scots,
and was able and willing to carry along with him
the great Western privateer fleet, which had become
so dreadful to the Spanish mind. Phihp listened
and was interested. It was only natural, he thought,
that heretics should be robbers and pirates. If they
could be recovered to the Church, their bad habits
would leave them. The English navy was the
most serious obstacle to the intended invasion.
Still, Hawkins ! The Achines of his nightmares !
It could not be. He asked FitzwiUiam if his friend
was acquainted with the Queen of Scots or the Duke
of Norfolk. FitzwiUiam was obliged to say that he
was not. The credentials of John Hawkins were
his own right hand. He was making the King a
magnificent offer : nothing less than a squadron of
the finest ships in the world — not perhaps in the
best condition, he added, with cool British
impudence, owing to the Queen's parsimony, but
easily to be put in order again if the King would
pay the seamen's wages and advance some money
for repairs. The release of a few poor prisoners
was a small price to ask for such a service.
The King was still wary, watching the bait hke
an old pike, but hesitating to seize it ; but the duke
and duchess were willing to be themselves securities
for FitzwiUiam' s faith, and Philip promised at last
that if Hawkins would send him a letter of re-
commendation from the Queen of Scots herself, he
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 71
would then see what could be done. The Ferias
were dangerously enthusiastic. They talked freely
to FitzwiUiam of the Queen of Scots and her
prospects. They trusted him with letters and
presents to her which would secure his admittance
to her confidence. Hawkins had sent him over for
the single purpose of cheating Philip into releasing
his comrades from the Inquisition ; and he had been
introduced to secrets of high poHtical moment ; like
Saul, the son of Kish, he had gone to seek his
father's asses and he had found a kingdom. Fitz-
wiUiam hurried home with his letters and his news.
Things were now serious. Hawkins could act no
further on his own responsibihty. He consulted
Cecil. Cecil consulted the Queen, and it was agreed
that the practice, as it was called, should be carried
further. It might lead to the discovery of the
whole secret.
Very treacherous, think some good people.
Well, there are times when one admires even
treachery —
nee lex est justior ulla
Quam necis artifices arte perire sua.
King Phihp was confessedly preparing to encourage
an Enghsh subject in treason to his sovereign.
Was it so wrong to hoist the engineer with his own
petard? Was it wrong of Hamlet to finger the
packet of Eosencrantz and Guildenstern and rewrite
his uncle's despatch ? Let us have done with cant
in these matters. Mary Stuart was at Sheffield
72 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Castle in charge of Lord Shrewsbury, and Fitz-
William could not see her without an order from
the Crown. Shrewsbury, though loyal to Elizabeth,
was notoriously well inclined to Mary, and there-
fore could not be taken into confidence. In writing
to him Cecil merely said that friends of Fitz-
wilUam's were in prison in Spain ; that if the Queen
of Scots would intercede for them, Phihp might be
induced to let them go. He might therefore allow
FitzwiUiam to have a private audience with that-
Queen.
Thus armed, FitzwiUiam went down to Shefl&eld.
He was introduced. He began with presenting^
Mary with the letters and remembrances from the
Ferias, which at once opened her heart. It was
impossible for her to suspect a friend of the duke
and duchess. She was delighted at receiving a
visitor from the Court of Spain. She was prudent
enough to avoid dangerous confidences, but she
said she was always pleased when she could do a
service to Englishmen, and with all her heart would
intercede for the prisoners. She wrote to Philip,
she wrote to the duke and duchess, and gave the
letters to FitzwiUiam to deUver. He took them to
London, caUed on Don Gerald, and told him of his
success. Don Gerald also wrote to his master,
wrote unguardedly, and also trusted FitzwiUiam
with the despatch.
The various packets were taken first to CecU,
and were next shown to the Queen. They were
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 73-
then returned to Fitzwilliam, who once more went
off with them to Madrid. If the letters produced
the expected effect, Cecil calmly observed that
divers commodities would ensue. English sailors
would be released from the Inquisition and the
galleys. The enemy's intentions would be dis-
covered. If the King of Spain could be induced to
do as Fitzwilliam had suggested, and assist in the
repairs of the ships at Plymouth, credit would be
obtained for a sum of money which could be
employed to his own detriment. If Alva attempted
the projected invasion, Hawkins might take the
ships as if to escort him, and then do some notable
exploit in mid-Channel.
You will observe the downright directness of
Cecil, Hawkins, and the other parties in the matter.
There is no wrapping up their intentions in fine
phrases, no parade of justification. They went
straight to their point. It was very characteristic
of Enghshmen in those stern, dangerous times.
They looked facts in the face, and did what fact
required. All really happened exactly as I have
described it : the story is told in letters and docu-
ments of the authenticity of which there is not the
smallest doubt.
We will follow Fitzwilham. He arrived at the
Spanish Court at the moment when Eidolfi had
brought from Eome the Pope's blessing on the
conspiracy. The final touches were being added
by the Spanish Council of State. All was hope ;
74 ENGLISH SEAMEN
all was the credulity of enthusiasm ! Mary Stuart's
letter satisfied Philip. The prisoners were dis-
missed, each with ten dollars in his pocket. An
agreement was formally drawn and signed in the
Escurial in which Phihp gave Hawkins a pardon
for his misdemeanours in the West Indies, a patent
for a Spanish peerage, and a letter of credit for
40,000Z. to put the privateers in a condition to do
service, and the money was actually paid by Philip's
London agent. Admitted as he now was to full
confidence, FitzwiUiam learnt all particulars of the
great plot. The story reads Uke a chapter from
Monte Cristo, and yet it is Hterally true.
It ends with a letter which I will read to you,
from Hawkins to Cecil : —
^ My very good Lord, — It may please your
Honour to be advertised that FitzwilHam is returned
from Spain, where his message was acceptably
received, both by the King himself, the Duke of
Feria, and others of the Privy Council. His
despatch and answer were with great expedition
and great countenance and favour of the King.
The Articles are sent to the Ambassador with
orders also for the money to be paid to me by him,
for the enterprise to proceed with all diligence.
The pretence is that my powers should join with
the Duke of Alva's powers, which he doth secretly
provide in Flanders, as well as with powers which
will come with the Duke of Medina Ceh out of
.;<j.
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 75
Spain, and to invade this realm and set up the
Queen of Scots. They have practised with us for
the burning of Her Majesty's ships. Therefore
there should be some good care had of them, but
not as it may appear that anything is discovered.
The King has sent a ruby of good price to the
Queen of Scots, with letters also which in my judg-
ment were good to be deUvered. The letters be of
no importance, but his message by word is to
comfort her, and say that he hath now none other
care but to place her in her own. It were good also
that Fitzwilliam may have access to the Queen of
Scots to render thanks for the deHvery of the
prisoners who are now at liberty. It will be a very
good colour for your Lordship to confer with him
more largely.
' I have sent your Lordship the copy of my
pardon from the King of Spain, in the order and
manner I have it, with my great titles and honours
from the King, from which God deliver me. Their
practices be very mischievous, and they be never
idle ; but God, I hope, wiU confound them and turn
their devices on their own necks.
* Your Lordship's most faithfully to my power,
' John Hawkins.'
A few more words will conclude this curious
episode. With the clue obtained by Fitzwilliam,
and confessions twisted out of Story and other un-
willing witnesses, the Eidolfi conspiracy was un-
76 ENGLISH SEAMEN
ravelled before it broke into act. Norfolk lost his
head. The inferior miscreants were hanged. The
Queen of Scots had a narrow escape, and the Parlia-
ment accentuated the Protestant character of the
Church of England by embodying the Thirty-nine
Articles in a statute. Alva, who distrusted Eidolfi
from the first and disliked encouraging rebellion,
refused to interest himself further in Anglo-Catholic
plots. Elizabeth and Cecil could now breathe more
freely, and read PhiUp a lesson on the danger of
plotting against the Hves of sovereigns.
So long as England and Spain were nominally
at peace, the presence of De la Mark and his
privateers in the Downs was at least indecent. A
committee of merchants at Bruges represented that
their losses by it amounted (as I said) to three
million ducats. Elizabeth, being now in comparative
safety, affected to Hsten to remonstrances, and orders
were sent down to De la Mark that he must pre-
pare to leave. It is likely that both the Queen
and he understood each other, and that De la Mark
quite well knew where he was to go, and what he
was to do.
Alva now held every fortress in the Low
Countries, whether inland or on the coast. The
people were crushed. The duke's great statue
stood in the square at Antwerp as a symbol of the
annihilation of the ancient liberties of the Pro-
vinces. By sea alone the Prince of Orange still
continued the unequal struggle ; but if he was to
SIR JOHN HAWKINS AND PHILIP THE SECOND 77
maintain himself as a sea power anywhere, he
required a harbour of his own in his own country.
Dover and the Thames had served for a time as a
base of operations, but it could not last, and with-
out a footing in Holland itself eventual success was
impossible. All the Protestant world was interested
in his fate, and De la Mark, with his miscellaneous
gathering of Dutch, English, and Huguenot rovers,
were ready for any desperate exploit.
The order was to leave Dover immediately, but
it was not construed strictly. He Hngered in the
Downs for six weeks. At length, one morning at
the end of March 1672, a Spanish convoy known to
be richly loaded appeared in the Straits. De la
Mark hfted anchor, darted out on it, seized two of
the largest hulks, rifled them, flung their crews
overboard, and chased the rest up Channel. A day
or two after he suddenly showed himself off Brille,
at the mouth of the Meuse. A boat was sent on
shore with a note to the governor, demanding the
instant surrender of the town to the admiral of
the Prince of Orange. The inhabitants rose in
enthusiasm; the garrison was small, and the go-
vernor was obhged to comply. De la Mark took
possession. A few priests and monks attempted
resistance, but were put down without difficulty,
and the leaders killed. The churches were cleared
of their idols, and the mass replaced by the
Calvinistic service. Cannon and stores, furnished
from London, were landed, and Brille was made
78 ENGLISH SEAMEN
impregnable before Alva had realised what had
happened to him. He is said to have torn his
beard for anger. Flushing followed suit. In a
week or two all the strongest places on the coast
had revolted, and the pirate fleet had laid the
foundation of the great Dutch Eepublic, which at
England's side was to strike out of PhiKp's hand
the sceptre of the seas, and to save the Protestant
religion.
We may think as we please of these Beggars of
the Ocean, these Norse corsairs come to life again
with the flavour of Genevan theology in them ; but
for daring, for ingenuity, for obstinate determination
to be spiritually free or to die for it, the hke of the
Protestant privateers of the sixteenth century has
been rarely met with in this world.
•England rang with joy when the news came
that Brille was taken. Church bells pealed, and
bonfires blazed. Money poured across in streams.
Exiled famiUes went back to their homes — which
were to be their homes once more — and the
Zealanders and Hollanders, entrenched among
their ditches, prepared for an amphibious conflict
with the greatest power then upon the earth.
79
LECTUEE IV
deake's voyage round the world
I SUPPOSE some persons present have heard the
name of Lope de Vega, the Spanish poet of Phihp
II.'s time. Very few of you probably know more of
him than his name, and yet he ought to have some
interest for us, as he was one of the many enthu-
siastic young Spaniards who sailed in the Great
Armada. He had been disappointed in some love
aJBair. He was an earnest Catholic. He wanted
distraction, and it is needless to say that he found
distraction enough in the English Channel to put
his love troubles out of his mind. His adventures
brought before him v^ith some vividness the cha-
racter of the nation with which his own country
was then in the death-grapple, especially the cha-
racter of the great English seaman to whom the
Spaniards universally attributed their defeat. Lope
studied the exploits of Francis Drake from his first
appearance to his end, and he celebrated those
exploits, as England herself has never yet thought
it worth her while to do, by making him the hero of
an epic poem. There are heroes and heroes. Lope
de Vega's epic is called * The Dragontea.' Drake
3o ENGLISH SEAMEN
himself is the dragon, the ancient serpent of the Apo-
caljrpse. We Enghsh have been contented to allow
Drake a certain qualified praise. We admit that he
was a bold, dexterous sailor, that he did his country
good service at the Invasion. We allow that he
was a famous navigator, and sailed round the world,
which no one else had done before him. But — there
is always a but — of course he was a robber and a
corsair, and the only excuse for him is that he was
no worse than most of his contemporaries. To
Lope de Vega he was a great deal worse. He was
Satan himself, the incarnation of the Genius of
Evil, the arch-enemy of the Church of God.
It is worth while to look more particularly
at the figure of a man who appeared to the
Spaniards in such terrible proportions. I, for my
part, believe a time will come when we shall see
better than we see now what the Eeformation was,
and what we owe to it, and these sea-captains of
EHzabeth wiU then form the subject of a great
EngHsh national epic as grand as the ' Odyssey.'
In my own poor way meanwhile I shall try in
these lectures to draw you a sketch of Drake and
his doings as they appear to myself. To-day I can
but give you a part of the rich and varied story,
but if all goes well I hope I may be able to continue
it at a future time.
I have not yet done with Sir John Hawkins.
We shall hear of him again. He became the
manager of Ehzabeth's dockyards. He it was who
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 8i
turned out the ships that fought Phihp's fleet in
the Channel in such condition that not a hull
leaked, not a spar was sprung, not a rope parted at
an unseasonable moment, and this at a minimum
of cost. He served himself in the squadron which
he had equipped. He was one of the small group
of admirals who met that Sunday afternoon in the
cabin of the ark Raleigh^ and sent the fireships
down to stir Medina Sidonia out of his anchorage
at Calais. He was a child of the sea, and at sea
he died, sinking at last into his mother's arms.
But of this hereafter. I must speak now of his
still more illustrious kinsman, Francis Drake.
I told you the other day generally who Drake
was and where he came from ; how he went to sea
as a boy, found favour with his master, became
early an owner of his own ship, sticking steadily
to trade. You hear nothing of him in connection
with the Channel pirates. It was not till he was
five-and-twenty that he was tempted by Hawkins
into the negro-catching business, and of this one
experiment was enough. He never tried it again.
The portraits of him vary very much, as indeed
it is natural that they should, for most of those
which pass for Drake were not meant for Drake at
all. It is the fashion in this country, and a very-
bad fashion, when we find a remarkable portrait
with no name authoritatively attached to it, to
christen it at random after some eminent man, and
there it remains to perplex or mislead.
a
82 ENGLISH SEAMEN
The best likeness of Drake that I know is an
engraving in Sir WiUiam Stirhng-Maxwell's collec-
tion of sixteenth-century notabilities, representing
him, as a scroll says at the foot of the plate, at the
age of forty-three. The face is round, the forehead
broad and full, with the short brown hair curling
crisply on either side. The eyebrows are highly
arched, the eyes firm, clear, and open. I cannot
undertake for the colour, but I should judge they
would be dark grey, like an eagle's. The nose is
short and thick, the mouth and chin hid by a heavy
moustache on the upper lip, and a close-clipped
beard well spread over chin and cheek. The
expression is good-humoured, but absolutely in-
flexible, not a weak line to be seen. He was of
middle height, powerfully built, perhaps too power-
fully for grace, unless the quilted doublet in which
the artist has dressed him exaggerates his breadth.
I have seen another portrait of him, with pre-
tensions to authenticity, in which he appears with
a slighter figure, eyes dark, full, thoughtful, and
stern, a sailor's cord about his neck with a whistle
attached to it, and a ring into which a thumb is
carelessly thrust, the weight of the arms resting on
it, as if in a characteristic attitude. Evidently
this is a carefully drawn likeness of some remark-
able seaman of the time. I should like to beheve
it to be Drake, but I can feel no certainty about it.
We left him returned home in the Judith from
San Juan de UUoa, a ruined man. He had never
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 83
injured the Spaniards. He had gone out with his
cousin merely to trade, and he had met with a
hearty reception from the settlers wherever he had
been. A Spanish admiral had treacherously set
upon him and his kinsman, destroyed half their
vessels, and robbed them of all that they had.
They had left a hundred of their comrades behind
them, for whose fate they might fear the worst.
Drake thenceforth considered Spanish property as
fair game till he had made up his own losses. He
waited quietly for four years till he had re-esta-
bUshed himself, and then prepared to try fortune
again in a more daring form.
The ill-luck at San Juan de UUoa had risen
from loose tongues. There had been too much talk
about it. Too many parties had been concerned.
The Spanish Government had notice and were
prepared. Drake determined to act for himself,
have no partners, and keep his own secret. He
found friends to trust him ^^4th money without
asking for explanations. The Pljinouth sailors
were eager to take their chance with him. His
force was absurdly small : a sloop or brigantine
of a hundred tons, which he called the Dragon
(perhaps, like Lope de Vega, plajnng on his own
name), and two small pinnaces. With these he
left Plymouth in the fall of the summer of 1572.
He had ascertained that Philip's gold and silver
from the Peruvian mines was landed at Panama,
carried across the isthmus on mules' backs on the
G 2
84 ENGLISH SEAMEN
line of M. de Lesseps' canal, and re-shipped at
Nombre de Dios, at the mouth of the Chagre Eiver.
He told no one where he was going. He was
no more communicative than necessary after his
return, and the results, rather than the particulars,
of his adventure are all that can be certainly known.
Discretion told him to keep his counsel, and he
kept it.
The Drake family pubhshed an account of this
voyage in the middle of the next century, but
obviously mythical, in parts demonstrably false, and
nowhere to be depended on. It can be made out,
however, that he did go to Nombre de Dios, that
he found his way into the town, and saw stores of
bullion there which he would have liked to carry
off but could not. A romantic story of a fight in
the town I disbeheve, first because his numbers
were so small that to try force would have been
absurd, and next because if there had been really
anything like a battle an alarm would have been
raised in the neighbourhood, and it is evident that
no alarm was given. In the woods were parties of
runaw^ay slaves, who were called Cimarons. It
was to these that Drake addressed himself, and
they volunteered to guide him where he could sur-
prise the treasure convoy on the way from Panama.
His movements w^ere silent and rapid. One inte-
resting incident is mentioned which is authentic.
The Cimarons took him through the forest to the
watershed from which the streams flow to both
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 85
oceans. Nothing could be seen through the jungle
of undergrowth ; but Drake climbed a tall tree, saw
from the top of it the Pacific glittering below him,
and made a vow that one day he would himself
sail a ship in those waters.
For the present he had immediate work on
hand. His guides kept their word. They led him
to the track from Panama, and he had not long to
wait before the tinkling was heard of the mule bells
as they were coming up the pass. There was no
suspicion of danger, not the faintest. The mule
train had but its ordinary guard, who fled at the
first surprise. The immense booty fell all into
Drake's hands — gold, jewels, silver bars — and got
with much ease, as Prince Hal said at Gadshill.
The silver they buried, as too heavy for transport.
The gold, pearls, rubies, emeralds, and diamonds
they carried down straight to their ship. The
voyage home went prosperously. The spoils were
shared among the adventurers, and they had no
reason to complain. They were wise enough to
hold their tongues, and Drake was in a condition
to look about him and prepare for bigger enter-
prises.
Eumours got abroad, spite of reticence. Imagi-
nation was high in flight just then ; rash amateurs
thought they could make their fortunes in the same
way, and tried it, to their sorrow. A sort of infla-
tion can be traced in English sailors' minds as
their work expanded. Even Hawkins — the clear,
S6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
practical Hawkins — was infected. This was not
in Drake's line. He kept to prose and fact. He
studied the globe. He examined all the charts that
he could get. He became known to the Privy
Council and the Queen, and prepared for an enter-
prise which would make his name and frighten
Philip in earnest.
The ships which the Spaniards used on the
Pacific were usually built on the spot. But Ma-
gellan was known to have gone by the Horn, and
where a Portuguese could go an Enghshman could
go. Drake proposed to try. There was a party in
Elizabeth's Council against these adventures, and in
favour of peace with Spain ; but Elizabeth herself
was always for enterprises of pith and moment. She
was willing to help, and others of her Council were
willing too, provided their names were not to
appear. The responsibility was to be Drake's own.
Again the vessels in which he was preparing to
tempt fortune seem preposterously small. The
Pelican^ or Golden Hinde^ which belonged to Drake
himself, was called but 120 tons, at best no larger
than a modern racing yawl, though perhaps no
racing yawl ever left White's yard better found
for the work which she had to do. The next, the
Elizabeth^ of London, was said to be eighty tons ;
a small pinnace of twelve tons, in which we should
hardly risk a summer cruise round the Land's End,
with two sloops or frigates of fifty and thirty tons,
made the rest. The Elizabeth was commanded
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD Sy
by Captain Winter, a Queen's officer, and perhaps
a son of the old admiral.
We may credit Drake with knowing what he
was about. He and his comrades wete carrying
their lives in their hands. If they were taken they
would be inevitably hanged. Their safety depended
on speed of sailing, and specially on the power of
working fast to windward, which the heavy square-
rigged ships could not do. The crews all told were
160 men and boys. Drake had his brother John
"with him. Among his officers were the chaplain,
IMr. Fletcher, another minister of some kind who
spoke Spanish, and in one of the sloops a mysterious
Mr. Doughty. Who Mr. Doughty was, and why
lie was sent out, is uncertain. When an expedition
•of consequence was on hand, the Spanish party in
the Cabinet usually attached to it some second in
•command whose business was to defeat the object.
When Drake went to Cadiz in after years to singe
King Philip's beard, he had a colleague sent with
him whom he had to lock into his cabin before he
could get to his work. So far as I can make out,
Mr. Doughty had a similar commission. On this
occasion secrecy was impossible. It was generally
known that Drake was going to the Pacific through
Magellan Straits, to act afterwards on his own
judgment. The Spanish ambassador, now Don
Bernardino de Mendoza, in informing Philip of
what was intended, advised him to send out orders
for the instant sinking of every EngHsh ship, and
88 ENGLISH SEAiMEN
the execution of every English sailor, that ap-
peared on either side the isthmus in West Indian
waters. The orders were despatched, but so im-
possible it seemed that an English pirate could
reach the Pacific, that the attention was confined
to the Caribbean Sea, and not a hint of alarm was
sent across to the other side.
On November 15, 1577, the Pelican and her
consort sailed out of Plymouth Sound. The
elements frowned on their start. On the second
day they were caught in a winter gale. The
Pelican sprung her mainmast, and they put back
to refit and repair. But Drake defied auguries.
Before the middle of December all was again in order.
The w^eather mended, and with a fair wdnd and
smooth w^ater they made a fast run across the Bay
of Biscay and down the coast to the Cape de Verde
Islands. There taking up the north-east trades,
they struck across the Atlantic, crossed the line,
and made the South American continent in latitude
33° South. They passed the mouth of the Plate
Kiver, finding to their astonishment fresh water at
the ship's side in fifty-four fathoms. All seemed
so far going well, when one morning Mr. Doughty's
sloop was missing, and he along with her. Drake,,
it seemed, had already reason to distrust Doughty,,
and guessed the direction in which he had gone.
The Marigold was sent in pursuit, and he was
overtaken and brought back. To prevent a repeti-^
tion of such a performance, Drake took the sloop's
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 89
stores out of her, burnt her, distributed the crew
through the other vessels, and took Mr. Doughty
under his own charge. On June 20 they reached
Port St. Julian, on the coast of Patagonia.
They had been long on the way, and the southern
winter had come round, and they had to delay
further to make more particular inquiry into
Doughty's desertion. An ominous and strange
spectacle met their eyes as they entered the har-
bour. In that utterly desolate spot a skeleton was
hanging on a gallows, the bones picked clean by
the vultures. It was one of Magellan's crew who
had been executed there for mutiny fifty years
before. The same fate was to befall the unhappy
Englishman who had been guilty of the same fault.
Without the strictest discipline it was impossible
for the enterprise to succeed, and Doughty had been
guilty of worse than disobedience. We are told
briefly that his conduct was found tending to con-
tention, and threatening the success of the voyage.
Part he was said to have confessed; part was
proved against him — one knows not what. A court
was formed but of the crew. He was tried, as near
as circumstances allowed, according to English
usage. He was found guilty, and was sentenced
to die. He made no complaint, or none of which
a record is preserved. He asked for the Sacrament,
which was of course allowed, and Drake himself
communicated with him. They then kissed each
other, and the unlucky wretch took leave of his
•90 ENGLISH SEAMEN
comrades, laid his head on the block, and so ended.
His offence can be only guessed ; but the suspicious
curiosity about his fate which was shown afterwards
by Mendoza makes it likely that he was in Spanish
pay. The ambassador cross-questioned Captain
Winter very particularly about him, and we learn
one remarkable fact from Mendoza's letters not
mentioned by any EngHsh writer, that Drake was
himself the executioner, choosing to bear the entire
responsibiUty.
' This done,' writes an eyeA\dtness, ' the general
made divers speeches to the whole company, per-
suading us to unity, obedience, and regard of our
voyage, and for the better confirmation thereof
willed every man the Sunday following to prepare
himself to receive the Communion as Christian
brothers and friends ought to- do, which was done
in very reverend sort ; and so with good content-
ment every man went about his business.'
You must take this last incident into your
<3onception of Drake's character, think of it how
you please.
It was now midwinter, the stormiest season of
the year, and they remained for six weeks in Port
St. Juhan. They burnt the twelve-ton pinnace, as
too small for the work they had now before them,
and there remained only the Pelican^ the Eliza-
bethj and the Marigold. In cold wild weather
they weighed at last, and on August 20 made the
opening of Magellan's Straits. The passage is
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 91
seventy miles long, tortuous and dangerous. They
had no charts. The ships' boats led, taking sound-
ings as they advanced. Icy mountains overhung
them on either side ; heavy snow fell below.
They brought up occasionally at an island to rest
the men, and let them kill a few seals and penguins
to give them fresh food. Everything they saw was
new, wild, and wonderful.
Having to feel their way, they were three weeks
in getting through. They had counted on reaching
the Pacific that the worst of their work was over,
and that they could run north at once into warmer
and calmer latitudes. The peaceful ocean, when
they entered it, proved the stormiest they had
ever sailed on. A fierce \yesterly gale drove them
600 miles to the south-east outside the Horn.
It had been supposed, hitherto, that Tierra del
Fuego was solid land to the South Pole, and
that the Straits were the only communication
between the Atlantic and the Pacific. They now
learnt the true shape and character of the Western
Continent. In the latitude of Cape Horn a westerly
gale blows for ever round the globe ; the waves
the highest anywhere known. The Marigold went
down in the tremendous encounter. Captain
Winter, in the Elizabeth^ made his way back into
Magellan's Straits. There he lay for three weeks,
lighting fires nightly to show Drake where he was,
but no Drake appeared. They had agreed, if
separated, to meet on the coast in the latitude of
92 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Valparaiso ; but Winter was chicken-hearted, or
else traitorous like Doughty, and sore, we are told,
* against the mariners' will,' when the three weeks
were out, he sailed away for England, where he
reported that all the ships were lost but the PelicaUy
and that the Pelican was probably lost too.
Drake had believed better of Winter, and had
not expected to be so deserted. He had himself
taken refuge among the islands which form the
Cape, waiting for the spring and milder weather.
He used the time in making surveys, and observing
the habits of the native Patagonians, whom he
found a tough race, going naked amidst ice and
snow. The days lengthened, and the sea smoothed
at last. He then sailed for Valparaiso, hoping to
meet Winter there, as he had arranged. At Val-
paraiso there was no Winter, but there was in the
port instead a great galleon just come in from Peru.
The galleon's crew took him for a Spaniard, hoisted
their colours, and beat their drums. The Pelican
shot alongside. The English sailors in high spirits
leapt on board. A Plymouth lad who could speak
Spanish knocked down the first man he met with
an ' Abajo, perro ! ' ' Down, you dog, down ! ' No
life was taken ; Drake never hurt man if he could
help it. The crew crossed themselves, jumped
overboard, and swam ashore. The prize was
examined. Four hundred pounds' weight of gold
was found in her, besides other plunder.
The galleon being disposed of, Drake and his
DRAKFS VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 93
znen pulled ashore to look at the town. The people
iad all fled. In the church they found a chalice,
iiwo cruets, and an altar-cloth, which were made
over to the chaplain to improve his Communion
iurniture. A few pipes of wine and a Greek pilot
who knew the way to Lima completed the booty.
' Shocking piracy,' you will perhaps say. But
what Drake was doing would have been all right
and good service had war been declared, and the
essence of things does not alter with the form. In
essence there was war, deadly war, between PhiUp
and EKzabeth. Even later, when the Armada
sailed, there had been no formal declaration. The
reality is the important part of the matter. It was
but stroke for stroke, and the EngHsh arm proved
the stronger.
Still hoping to find Winter in advance of him,
Drake went on next to Tarapaca, where silver from
the Andes mines was shipped for Panama. At
Tarapaca there was the same unconsciousness of
danger. The silver bars lay piled on the quay, the
muleteers who had brought them were sleeping
peacefully in the sunshine at their side. The mule-
teers were left to their slumbers. The bars were
lifted into the English boats. A train of mules or
llamas came in at the moment with a second load
as rich as the first. This, too, went into the
Pelican's hold. The bullion taken at Tarapaca
was worth near half a million ducats.
Still there were no news of Winter. Drake
94 ENGLISH SEAMEN
began to realise that he was now entirely alone^
and had only himself and his own crew to depend
on. There was nothing to do but to go through
with it, danger adding to the interest. Arica was
the next point visited. Half a hundred blocks of
silver were picked up at Arica. After Arica came
Lima, the chief dep6t of all, where the grandest
haul was looked for. At Lima, alas ! they were
just too late. Twelve great hulks lay anchored
there. The sails were unbent, the men were
ashore. They contained nothing but some chests
of reals and a few bales of silk and hnen. But a
thirteenth, called by the gods Our Lady of the
Conception^ called by men Cacafuego^ a name in-
capable of translation, had sailed a few days before
for the isthmus, with the whole produce of the
Lima mines for the season. Her ballast was silver,
her cargo gold and emeralds and rubies.
Drake dehberately cut the cables of the ships,
in the roads, that they might drive ashore and be
unable to follow him. The Pelican spread her
wdngs, every feather of them, and sped away in
pursuit. He would know the Cacafuego^ so he
learnt at Lima, by the peculiar cut of her sails.
The first man who caught sight of her was promised
a gold chain for his reward. A sail was seen on
the second day. It was not the chase, but it was
worth stopping for. Eighty pounds' weight of gold
was found, and a great gold crucifix, set with
emeralds said to be as large as pigeon's eggs..
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 95:
They took the kernel. They left the shell. Still
on and on. We learn from the Spanish accounts
that the Viceroy of Lima, as soon as he recovered
from his astonishment, despatched ships in pursuit.
They came up with the last plundered vessel, heard
terrible tales of the rovers' strength, and went back
for a larger force. The Pelican meanwhile went
along upon her course for 800 miles. At length,,
when in the latitude of Quito and close under the
shore, the Cacafiiego's peculiar sails were sighted,
and the gold chain was claimed. There she was,
freighted with the fruit of Aladdin's garden, going
lazily along a few miles ahead. Care was needed
in approaching her. If she guessed the Pelican's
character, she would run in upon the land and they
would lose her. It was afternoon. The sun was
still above the horizon, and Drake meant to wait
till night, when the breeze would be ofE the shore,
as in the tropics it always is.
The Pelican sailed two feet to the Cacafuego's
one. Drake filled his empty wine-skins with water
and trailed them astern to stop his way. The
chase supposed that she was followed by some
heavy-loaded trader, and, wishing for company on
a lonely voyage, she slackened sail and waited for
him to come up. At length the sun went down
into the ocean, the rosy light faded from ofE the
snows of the Andes ; and when both ships had become
invisible from the shore, the skins were hauled in,
the night wind rose, and the water began to ripple
96 ENGLISH SEAMEN
under the Pelican's bows. The Cacafuego was
swiftly overtaken, and when within a cable's length
a voice hailed her to put her head into the wind.
The Spanish commander, not understanding so
strange an order, held on his course. A broadside
brought down his mainyard, and a flight of arrows
rattled on his deck. He was himself wounded.
In a few minutes he was a prisoner, and Our Lady
of the Conception and her precious freight were in
the corsair's power. The wreck was cut away ;
the ship was cleared; a prize crew was put on
board. Both vessels turned their heads to the sea.
At daybreak no land was to be seen, and the exami-
nation of the prize began. The full value was
never acknowledged. The invoice, if there was
one, was destroyed. The accurate figures were
known only to Drake and Queen Elizabeth. A
published schedule acknowledged to twenty tons of
silver bulhon, thirteen chests of silver coins, and a
hundredweight of gold, but there were gold nuggets
besides in indefinite quantity, and ' a great store '
of pearls, emeralds, and diamonds. The Spanish
Government proved a loss of a million and a half
of ducats, excluding what belonged to private
persons. The total capture was immeasurably
greater.
Drake, we are told, was greatly satisfied. He
thought it prudent to stay in the neighbourhood no
longer than necessary. He went north with all
sail set, taking his prize along with him. The
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 97
master, San Juan de Anton, was removed on board
the Pelican to have his wound attended to. He
remained as Drake's guest for a week, and sent in
a report of what he observed to the Spanish Govern-
ment. One at least of Drake's party spoke excel-
lent Spanish. This person took San Juan over the
ship. She showed signs, San Juan said, of rough
service, but was still in fine condition, with ample
arms, spare rope, mattocks, carpenters' tools of all
descriptions. There were eighty-five men on board
all told, fifty of them men-of-war, the rest young
fellows, ship-boys and the like. Drake himself was
treated with great reverence ; a sentinel stood
always at his cabin door. He dined alone with
music.
No mystery was made of the Pelican's exploits.
The chaplain showed San Juan the crucifix set
with emeralds, and asked him if he could seriously
believe that to be God. San Juan asked Drake
how he meant to go home. Drake showed him a
globe with three courses traced on it. There was
the way that he had come, there was the way by
China and the Cape of Good Hope, and there was
a third way which he did not explain. San Juan
asked if Spain and England were at war. Drake
said he had a commission from the Queen. His
captures were for her, not for himself. He added
afterwards that the Viceroy of Mexico had robbed
him and his kinsman, and he was making good his
losses.
H
98 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Then, touching the point of the sore, he said,
' I know the Viceroy will send for thee to inform
himself of my proceedings. Tell him he shall
do well to put no more Englishmen to death,
and to spare those he has in his hands, for if he
do execute them I will hang 2,000 Spaniards and
send him their heads.'
After a week's detention San Juan and his men
were restored to the empty Cacafuego^ and allowed
to go. On their way back they fell in with the two
cruisers sent in pursuit from Lima, reinforced by a
third from Panama. They were now fully armed ;
they went in chase, and according to their own
account came up with the Pelican. But, like
Lope de Vega, they seemed to have been terrified
at Drake as a sort of devil. They confessed that
they dared not attack him, and again went back
for more assistance. The Viceroy abused them as
cowards, arrested the officers, despatched others
again wdth peremptory orders to seize Drake, even
if he was the devil, but by that time their ques-
tionable visitor had flown. They found nothing,
perhaps to their relief.
A despatch went instantly across the Atlantic to
Philip. One squadron was sent off from Cadiz to
watch the Straits of Magellan, and another to patrol
the Caribbean Sea. It was thought that Drake's
third way was no seaway at all, that he meant to
leave the Pelican at Darien, carry his plunder
over the mountains, and build a ship at Honduras
DRAKFS VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 99
to take him home. His real idea was that he might
hit off the passage to the north of which Frobisher
and Davis thought they had found the eastern
entrance. He stood on towards Cahfornia, picking
up an occasional straggler in the China trade, with
silk, porcelain, gold, and emeralds. Fresh water
was a necessity. He put in at Guatulco for it, and
his proceedings were humorously prompt. The
alcaldes at Guatulco were in session trpng a batch
of negroes. An English boat's crew appeared in
court, tied the alcaldes hand and foot, and carried
them ofi to the Pelican^ there to remain as hos-
tages till the water-casks were filled.
North again he fell in with a galleon carrying
out a new Governor to the Philippines. The
Governor was relieved of his boxes and his jewels,
and then, says one of the party, ' Our General,
thinking himself in respect of his private injuries
received from the Spaniards, as also their contempt
and indignities offered to our country and Prince,
sufficiently satisfied and revenged, and supposing
her Majesty would rest contented with this service,
began to consider the best way home.' The first
necessity was a complete overhaul of the ship.
Before the days of copper sheathing weeds grew
thick under water. Barnacles formed in clusters,
stopping the speed, and sea- worms bored through
the planking. Twenty thousand miles lay between
the Pelican and Plymouth Sound, and Drake was
not a man to run idle chances. Still holding his
u 2
loo ENGLISH SEAMEN
north course till he had left the furthest Spanish
settlement far to the south, he put into Canoas Bay
in California, laid the Pelican ashore, set up forge
and workshop, and repaired and re-rigged her with
a month's labour from stem to stem. With every
rope new set up and new canvas on every yard, he
started again on April 16, 1579, and continued up
the coast to Oregon. The air grew cold though it
was summer. The men felt it from having been So
long in the tropics, and dropped out of health.
There was still no sign of a passage. If passage there
was, Drake perceived that it must be of enormous
length. Magellan's Straits, he guessed, would be
watched for him, so he decided on the route by the
Cape of Good Hope. In the Philippine ship he had
found a chart of the Indian Archipelago. With the
help of this and his own skill he hoped to find his
way. He went down again to San Francisco,
landed there, found the soil teeming with gold,
made acquaintance with an Indian king who hated
the Spaniards and wished to become an English
subject. But Drake had no leisure to annex new
territories. Avoiding the course from Mexico to
the Philippines, he made a direct course to the
Moluccas, and brought up again at the Island of
Celebes. Here the Pelican was a second time
docked and scraped. The crew had a month's rest
among the fireflies and vampires of the tropical
forest. Leaving Celebes, they entered on the most
perilous part of the whole voyage. They wound
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD loi
fcieir way among coral reefs and low islands
scarcely visible above the water-line. In their
cihart the only outlet marked into the Tudian Ocean
^was by the Straits of Malacca. But Drake guessed
xnghtly that there must be some nearer opening,
^nd felt his way looking for it along the coast of
-Java. Spite of all his care, he was once on the
^dge of destruction. One evening as night was
<3losing in a grating sound was heard under the
JPelican^s keel. In another moment she was hard
^nd fast on a reef. The breeze was Ught and the
^ater smooth, or the world would have heard no
more of Francis Drake. She lay immovable till
daybreak. At dawn the position was seen not to be
entirely desperate. Drake himself showed all the
qualities of a great conunander. Cannon were
thrown over and cargo that was not needed. In
the afternoon, the wind changing, the hghtened
vessel lifted off the rocks and was saved. The hull
was uninjured, thanks to the Califomian repairs.
All on board had behaved well with the one
exception of Mr. Fletcher, the chaplain. Mr.
Fletcher, instead of working like a man, had whined
about Divine retribution for the execution of
Doughty.
For the moment Drake passed it over. A few
days after, they passed out through the Straits of
Sunda, where they met the great ocean swell,
Homer's /xeya KVfia daXda-crrj^, and they knew then
that all was well.
I02 ENGLISH SEAMEN
There was now time to call Mr. Fletcher to
account. It was no business of the chaplain to
discourage and dispirit men in a moment of danger,
and a court was formed to sit upon him. An
EngUsh captain on his own deck represents the
sovereign, and is head of Church as well as State.
Mr. Fletcher was brought to the forecastle, where
Drake, sitting on a sea-chest with a pair of
pantoufles in his hand, excommunicated him, pro-
nounced him cut oflE from the Church of God,
given over to the devil for the chastising of his
flesh, and left him chained by the leg to a ring-bolt
to repent of his cowardice.
In the general good-humour punishment could
not be of long duration. The next day the poor
chaplain had his absolution and returned to his
berth and his duty. The Pelican met with no
more adventures. Sweeping in fine clear weather
round the Cape of Good Hope, she touched once
for water at Sierra Leone, and finally sailed in
triumph into Plymouth Harbour, where she had
been long given up for lost, having traced the first
furrow round the globe. Winter had come home
eighteen months before, but could report nothing.
The news of the doings on the American coast had
reached England through Madrid. The Spanish
ambassador had been furious. It was known that
Spanish squadrons had been sent in search. Com-
plications would arise if Drake brought his plunder
home, and timid politicians hoped that he was at
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 103
the bottom of the sea. But here he was, actually
arrived with a monarch's ransom in his hold.
English sympathy with an extraordinary exploit
is always irresistible. Shouts of applause rang
through the country, and Elizabeth, every bit of
her an Englishwoman, felt with her subjects. She
sent for Drake to London, made him tell his story
over and over again, and was never weary of
hstening to him. As to injury to Spain, Philip
had lighted a fresh insurrection in Ireland, which
had cost her dearly in lives and money. For
Philip to demand compensation of England on the
score of justice was a thing to make the gods
laugh.
So thought the Queen. So unfortunately did
not think some members of her Council, Lord
Burghley among them. Mendoza was determined
that Drake should be punished and the spoils dis-
gorged, or else that he would force Elizabeth upon
the world as the confessed protectress of piracy.
Burghley thought that, as things stood, some
satisfaction (or the form of it) would have to be
made.
Elizabeth hated paying back as heartily as
FalstaflE, nor had she the least intention of throw-
ing to the wolves a gallant Englishman, with whose
achievements the world was ringing. She was
obliged to allow the treasure to be registered by a
responsible official, and an account rendered to
Mendoza ; but for all that she meant to keep her
I04 ENGLISH SEAMEN
own share of the spoils. She meant, too, that
Drake and his brave crew should not go unre-
warded. Drake himself should have ten thousand
pounds at least.
Her action was eminently characteristic of her.
On the score of real justice there was no doubt at
all how matters stood between herself and Philip,
who had tried to dethrone and kill her.
The Pelican lay still at Plymouth with the bul-
lion and jewels untouched. She directed that it
should be landed and scheduled. She trusted the
business to Edmund Tremayne, of Sydenham, a
neighbouring magistrate, on whom she could
depend. She told him not to be too inquisitive,
and she allowed Drake to go back and arrange the
cargo before the examination was made. Let me
now read you a letter from Tremayne himself to
Sir Francis Walsingham : —
' To give you some understanding how I have
proceeded with Mr. Drake : I have at no time
entered into the account to know more of the value
of the treasure than he made me acquainted with ;
and to say truth I persuaded him to impart to me
no more than need, for so I saw him commanded
in her Majesty's behalf that he should reveal the
certainty to no man living. I have only taken
notice of so much as he has revealed, and the same
I have seen to be weighed, registered, and packed.
And to observe her Majesty's commands for the
ten thousand pounds, we agreed he should take it
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 105
out of the portion that was landed secretly, and ta
remove the same out of the place before my son
Henry and I should come to the weighing and
registering of what was left ; and so it was done,
and no creature living by me made privy to it but
himself ; and myself no privier to it than as you
may perceive by this.
' I see nothing to charge Mr. Drake further than
he is inclined to charge himself, and withal I must
say he is inclined to advance the value to be
delivered to her Majesty, and seeking in general
to recompense all men that have been in the case
dealers with him. As I dare take an oath, he will
x*ather diminish his own portion than leave any
of them unsatisfied. And for his mariners and
followers I have seen here as eye-witness, and have
lueard with my ears, such certain signs of goodwill
as I cannot yet see that any of them will leave his
C3ompany. The whole course of his voyage hath
showed him to be of great valour; but my hap
lias been to see some particulars, and namely in
this discharge of his company, as doth assure me
lihat he is a man of great government, and that
by the rules of God and his book, so as proceed-
ing on such foundation his doings cannot but
prosper. '
The result of it all was that deductions were
made from the capture equivalent to the property
which Drake and Hawkins held themselves to have
been treacherously plundered of at San Juan de
io6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
UUoa, with perhaps other liberal allowances for
the cost of recovery. An account on part of what
remained was then given to Mendoza. It was not
returned to him or to Philip, but was laid up in
the Towner till the final settlement of PhiUp's and
the Queen's claims on each other — the cost, for
one thing, of the rebelhon in Ireland. Commis-
sioners met and argued and sat on inefiectually till
the Armada came and the discussion ended, and
the talk of restitution was over. Meanwhile,
opinion varied about Drake's own doings as it has
varied since. Elizabeth listened spellbound to his
adventures, sent for him to London again, and
walked with him publicly about the parks and
gardens. She gave him a second ten thousand
pounds. The Pelican was sent round to Dept-
ford; a royal banquet was held on board, Eliza-
beth attended and Drake was knighted. Mendoza
clamoured for the treasure in the Tower to be given
up to him ; Walsingham wished to give it to the
Prince of Orange ; Leicester and his party in the
Council, who had helped to fit Drake out, thought
it ought to be divided among themselves, and un-
less Mendoza lies they offered to share it with
him if he would agree to a private arrangement.
Mendoza says he answered that he would give
twice as much to chastise such a bandit as Drake.
Ehzabeth thought it should be kept as a captured
pawn in the game, and so in fact it remained after
the deductions which we have seen had been made.
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 107
Drake was lavish of his presents. He presented
the Queen with a diamond cross and a coronet set
with splendid emeralds. He gave Bromley, the
Lord Chancellor, 800 dollars' worth of silver plate,
and as much more to other members of the Council.
The Queen wore her coronet on New Year's Day ;
the Chancellor was content to decorate his side-
board at the cost of the Catholic King. Burghley
and Sussex decHned the splendid temptation ; they
said they could accept no such precious gifts from
a man whose fortune had been made by plunder.
Burghley lived to see better into Drake's value.
Meanwhile, what now are we, looking back over
our history, to say of these things — the Channel
privateering ; the seizure of Alva's army money ;
the sharp practice of Hawkins with the Queen of
Scots and King Philip ; or this amazing perform-
ance of Sir Francis Drake in a vessel ilo larger
than a second-rate yacht of a modern noble lord ?
Eesolution, daring, professional skill, all his-
torians allow to these men; but, Uke Burghley,
they regard what they did as piracy, not much
better, if at all better, than the later exploits of
Morgan and Ejdd. So cried the Catholics who
wished EHzabeth's ruin; so cried Lope de Vega
and King Philip. In milder language the modern
philosopher repeats the unfavourable verdict, rejoices
that he lives in an age when such doings are
impossible, and apologises faintly for the excesses
of an imperfect age. May I remind the philosopher
io8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
that we live in an age when other things have also
happily become impossible, and that if he and his
friends were hable when they went abroad for their
summer tours to be snapped by the familiars of the
Inquisition, whipped, burnt alive, or sent to the
galleys, he would perhaps think more leniently of
any measures by which that respectable institution
and its masters might be induced to treat philoso*
phers with greater consideration ?
Again, remember Dr. Johnson's warning, Beware
of cant. In that intensely serious century men were
more occupied with the realities than the forms of
things. By encouraging rebelhon in England and
Ireland, by burning so many scores of poor English
seamen and merchants in fools' coats at Seville,
the King of Spain had given Elizabeth a hundred
occasions for declaring war against him. Situated
as she was, with so many disaffected Catholic
subjects, she could not begin a war on such a quar-
rel. She had to use such resources as she had,
and of these resources the best was a splendid race
of men who were not afraid to do for her at their
own risk what commissioned oflScers would and
might have justly done had formal war been
declared, men who defeated the national enemy
with materials conquered from himself, who were
devoted enough to dispense with the personal
security which the sovereign's commission would
have extended to prisoners of war, and face the
certainty of being hanged if they were taken.
DRAKE'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD 109
Yes ; no doubt by the letter of the law of nations
Drake and Hawkins were corsairs of the same stuff
as Ulysses, as the rovers of Norway. But the
common-sense of Europe saw through the form to
the substance which lay below it, and the instinct
of their countrymen gave them a place among
the fighting heroes of England, from which I do
not think they will be deposed by the eventual
verdict of history.
no ENGLISH SEAMEN
LECTUEE V
PARTIES IN THE STATE
On December 21, 1585, a remarkable scene took
place in the English House of Commons. The
Prince of Orange, after many attempts had failed,
had been successfully disposed of in the Low Coun-
tries. A fresh conspiracy had just been discovered
for a Catholic insurrection in England, supported
by a foreign invasion ; the object of which was to
dethrone Elizabeth and to give her crown to Mary
Stuart. The Duke of Alva, at the time of the
Eidolfi plot, had pointed out as a desirable pre-
liminary, if the invasion was to succeed, the
assassination of the Queen of England. The
succession being undecided, he had calculated that
the confusion would paralyse resistance, and the
notorious favour with which Mary Stuart's preten-
sions were regarded by a powerful English party
would ensure her an easy victory were Elizabeth
once removed. But this was an indispensable
condition. It had become clear at last that so long
as Elizabeth was alive Philip would not willingly
sanction the landing of a Spanish army on English
shores. Thus, among the more ardent Catholics^
PARTIES IN THE STATE iii
especially the refugees at the Seminary at Eheims,
a crown in heaven was held out to any spiritual
knight-errant who would remove the obstacle. The
enterprise itself was not a difficult one. Elizabeth
was aware of her danger, but she was personally fear-
less. She refused to distrust the Catholics. Her
household was full of them. She admitted anyone
to her presence who desired a private interview.
JDr. Parry, a member of Parliament, primed by en-
couragements from the Cardinal of Como and the
"Vatican, had undertaken to risk his life to win the
glorious prize. He introduced himself into the
palace, properly provided with arms. He professed
to have information of importance to give. The
Queen received him repeatedly. Once he was alone
"with her in the palace garden, and was on the
point of killing her, when he was awed, as he said,
hy the likeness to her father. Parry was discovered
and hanged, but Elizabeth refused to take warning.
When there were so many aspirants for the honour
of removing Jezebel, and Jezebel was so easy of
approach, it was felt that one would at last suc-
ceed ; and the loyal part of the nation, led by Lord
Burghley, formed themselves into an association to
protect a life so vital to them and apparently so
indifferent to herself.
The subscribers bound themselves to pursue to
the death all manner of persons who should attempt
or consent to anything to the harm of her Majesty's
person ; never to allow or submit to any pretended
112 ENGLISH SEAMEN
successor by whom or for whom such detestable
act should be attempted or committed ; but to
pursue such persons to death and act the utmost
revenge upon them.
The bond in its first form was a visible creation
of despair. It implied a condition of things in
which order would have ceased to exist. The
lawyers, who, it is curious to observe, were
generally in Mary Stuart's interest, vehemently
objected ; yet so passionate was public feeling
that it was signed throughout the kingdom, and
Parliament was called to pass an Act which would
secure the same object. Mary Stuart, at any rate,
was not to benefit by the crimes either of herself or
her admirers. It was provided that if the realm
was invaded, or a rebellion instigated by or for any
one pretending a title to the crown after the Queen's
death, such pretender should be disquahfied for
ever. In the event of the Queen's assassination the
government was to devolve on a Committee of
Peers and Privy Councillors, who were to examine
the particulars of the murder and execute the
perpetrators and their accomplices ; while, with a
significant allusion, all Jesuits and seminary priests
were required to leave the country instantly, under
pain of death.
The House of Commons was heaving vnih.
emotion when the Act was sent up to the Peers.
To give expression to their burning feelings Sir
Christopher Hatton proposed that before they
PARTIES IN THE STATE 113
separated they should join him in a prayer for
the Queen's preservation. The 400 members
all rose, and knelt on the floor of the House, re-
peating Hatton's words after him, sentence by
sentence.
Jesuits and seminary priests ! Attempts have
l)een made to justify the conspiracies against
lEUzabeth from what is called the persecution of
"the innocent enthusiasts who came from Eheims
to preach the Catholic faith to the English people.
Popular writers and speakers dwell on the execu-
tions of Campian and his friends as worse than the
Smithfield burnings, and amidst general admira-
tion and approval these martyred saints have been
lately canonised. Their mission, it is said, was
purely religious. Was it so ? The chief article in
the religion which they came to teach was the duty
of obedience to the Pope, who had excommunicated
the Queen, had absolved her subjects from their
allegiance, and, by a relaxation of the Bull, had
permitted them to pretend to loyalty ad illud
tempus^ till a Cathohc army of deliverance should
arrive. A Pope had sent a legate to Ireland, and
was at that moment stirring up a bloody insur-
rection there.
But what these seminary priests were, and what
their object was, will best appear from an account
of the condition of England, drawn up for the use
of the Pope and Philip, by Father Parsons, who was
himself at the head of the mission. The date of it
114 ENGLISH SEAMEN
is 1685, almost simultaneous with the scene in
Parliament which I have just been describing.
The English refugees, from Cardinal Pole down-
wards, were the most active and passionate
preachers of a Catholic crusade against England.
They failed, but they have revenged themselves in
history. Pole, Sanders, Allen, and Parsons have
coloured all that we suppose ourselves to know of
Henry VIII. and Elizabeth. What I am about to
read to you does not diflEer essentially from what we
have already heard from these persons ; but it is
new, and, being intended for practical guidance, is
complete in its way. It comes from the Spanish
archives, and is not therefore open to suspicion.
Parsons, as you know, was a Fellow of Balliol
before his conversion ; AUen was a Fellow of Oriel,
and Sanders of New College. An Oxford Church
of England education is an excellent things and
beautiful characters have been formed in the
Catholic universities abroad ; but as the elements
of dynamite are innocent in themselves, yet when
fused together produce effects no one would have
dreamt of, so Oxford and Eome, when they have
run together, have always generated a somewhat
furious compound.
/ Parsons describes his statement as a ' brief note
on the present condition of England,' from which
may be inferred the ease and opportuneness of the
holy enterprise. ' England,' he says, ' contains
fifty-two counties, of which forty are well inclined
PARTIES IN THE STATE 115
to the Catholic faith. Heretics in these are few,
and are hated by all ranks. The remaining twelve
are infected more or less, but even in these the
Catholics are in the majority. Divide England
into three parts ; two-thirds at least are Catholic
at heart, though many conceal their convictions in
fear of the Queen. English Catholics are of two
sorts — one which makes an open profession regard-
Jess of consequences, the other beKeving at the
lottom, but unwilling to risk life or fortune, and so
submitting outwardly to the heretic laws, but as
-eager as the Catholic confessors for redemption
from slavery.
' The Queen and her party,' he goes on, ' more
fear these secret Catholics than those who wear
their colours openly. The latter they can fine,
disarm, and make innocuous. The others, being
outwardly compliant, cannot be touched, nor can
any precaution be taken against their rising when
the day of divine vengeance shall arrive.
' The counties specially Catholic are the most
warhke, and contain harbours and other con-
veniences for the landing of an invading army.
The north towards the Scotch border has been
trained in constant fighting. The Scotch nobles
on the other side are CathoKc and will lend their \
help. So will all Wales.
' The inhabitants of the midland and southern
provinces, where the taint is deepest, are indolent
and cowardly, and do not know what war means.
I 2
ii6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
The towns are more corrupt than the country
districts. But the strength of England does not
lie, as on the Continent, in towns and cities. The
town population are merchants and craftsmen,
rarely or never nobles or magnates.
' The nobihty, who have the real power, reside
with their retinues in castles scattered over the
land. The wealthy yeomen are strong and honest,
all attached to the ancient faith, and may be counted
on when an attempt is made for the restoration of
it. The knights and gentry are generally well
aflEected also, and will be well to the front. Many
of their sons are being now educated in our semi-
naries. Some are in exile, but all, whether at home
or abroad, will be active on our side.
' Of the great peers, marquises, earls, viscounts,
and barons, part are mth us, part against us. But
the latter sort are new creations, whom the Queen
has promoted either for heresy or as her personal
lovers, and therefore universally abhorred.
' The premier peer of the old stock is the Earl of
Arundel, son and heir of the late Duke of Norfolk,
whom she has imprisoned because he tried to
escape out of the realm. This earl is entirely
CathoHc, as well as his brothers and kinsmen ; and
they have powerful vassals who are eager to revenge
the injury of their lord. The Earl of Northumber-
land and his brothers are Catholics. They too
have family wrongs to repay, their father having
been this year murdered in the Tower, and they
PARTIES IN THE STATE 117
have placed themselves at my disposal. The Earl
of Worcester and his heir hate heresy, and are
devoted to us with all their dependents. The Earls
of Cumberland and Southampton and Viscount
Montague are faithful, and have a large following.
Besides these we have many of the barons — Dacre,
Morley, Vaux, Windsor, Wharton, Lovelace, Stour-
ton, and others besides. The Earl of Westmore-
land, with Lord Paget and Sir Francis Englefield,
who reside abroad, have been incredibly earnest in
promoting our enterprise. With such support, it
is impossible that we can fail. These lords and
gentlemen, when they see eflficient help coming to
them, will certainly rise, and for the following
reasons : —
' 1. Because some of the principals among them
have given me their promise.
' 2. Because, on hearing that Pope Pius intended
to excommunicate and depose the Queen sixteen
years ago, many Catholics did rise. They only
failed because no support was sent them, and the
Pope's sentence had not at that time been actually
pubKshed. Now, when the Pope has spoken and
help is certain, there is not a doubt how they will
act.
' 3. Because the Catholics are now much more
numerous, and have received daily instruction in
their reKgion from our priests. There is now no
orthodox Catholic in the whole realm who supposes
that he is any longer bound in conscience to obey
ii8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
the Queen. Books for the occasion have been
written and pubhshed by us, in which we prove
that it is not only lawful for Catholics, but their
positive duty, to fight against the Queen and heresy
when the Pope bids them ; and these books are so
greedily read among them that when the time
comes they are certain to take arms.
' 4. The Catholics in these late years have shown
their real feeling in the martyrdoms of priests and
laymen, and in attempts made by several of them
against the person and State of the Queen. Various
Catholics have tried to kill her at the risk of their
own lives, and are still trying.
'6. We have three hundred priests dispersed
among the houses of the nobles and honest gentry.
Every day we add to their number ; and these
priests will direct the consciences and actions of
the Catholics at the great crisis.
' 6. They have been so harried and so worried
that they hate the heretics worse than they hate
the Turks.
' Should any of them fear the introduction of a
Spanish army as dangerous to their national
liberties, there is an easy way to satisfy their
scruples. Let it be openly declared that the
enterprise is undertaken in the name of the Pope,
and there will be no more hesitation. We have
ourselves prepared a book for their instruction, to
be issued at the right moment. If his Holiness
PARTIES IN THE STATE 119
desires to see it we will have it translated into
Latin for his use.
'Before the enterprise is undertaken the sen-
tence of excommunication and deposition ought to
be reissued, with special clauses.
' It must be published in all adjoining Catholic
countries ; all Cathohc kings and princes must be
admonished to forbid every description of inter-
course with the pretended Queen and her heretic
subjects, and themselves especially to make or
observe no treaties with her, to send no embassies
to her and admit none ; to render no help to her of
any sort or kind.
' Besides those who will be our friends for re-
ligion's sake we shall have others with us — neutrals
or heretics of milder sort, or atheists, with whom
England now abounds, who will join us in the
interest of the Queen of Scots. Among them are
the Marquis of Winchester, the Earls of Shrews-
bury, Derby, Oxford, Eutland, and several other
peers. The Queen of Scots herself will be of in-
finite assistance to us in securing these. She
knows who are her secret friends. She has been
able so far, and we trust will always be able, to
communicate with them. She will see that they
are ready at the right time. She has often written
to me to say that she hopes that she will be able
to escape when the time comes. In her last letter
she urges me to be vehement with his Holiness in
pushing on the enterprise, and bids him have no
I20 ENGLISH SEAMEN
concern for her own safety. She behoves that she
can care for herself. If not, she says she will lose
her life wiUingly in a cause so sacred.
* The enemies that we shall have to deal with
are the more determined heretics whom we call
Puritans, and certain creatures of the Queen, the
Earls of Leicester and Huntingdon, and a few^
others. They will have an advantage in the money
in the Treasury, the pubKc arms and stores, and the
army and navy, but none of them have ever seen a
camp. The leaders have been nuzzled in love-
making and Court pleasures, and they will all fly
at the first shock of war. They have not a man
who can command in the field. In the whole
realm there are but two fortresses which could
stand a three days' siege. The people are ener-
vated by long peace, and, except a few who have
served with the heretics in Flanders, cannot bear
their arms. Of those few some are dead and
some have deserted to the Prince of Parma, a
clear proof of the real disposition to revolt. There
is abundance of food and cattle in the country, all
of which will be at our service and cannot be kept
from us. Everywhere there are safe and roomy
harbours, almost all undefended. An invading
force can be landed with ease, and there will be
no lack of local pilots. Fifteen thousand trained
soldiers will be sufficient, aided by the Catholic
English, though, of course, the larger the force,
particularly if it includes cavalry, the quicker the
PARTIES IN THE STATE 121
work will be done and the less the expense.
Practically there will be nothing to overcome save
an unwarhke and undiscipKned mob.
' Sixteen times England has been invaded.
Twice only the native race have repelled the
attacking force. They have been defeated on
every other occasion, and with a cause so holy and
just as ours we need not fear to fail. The ex-
penses shall be repaid to his Holiness and the
Catholic King out of the property of the heretics
and the Protestant clergy. There will be ample in
these resources to compensate all who give us their
hand. But the work must be done promptly.
Delay will be infinitely dangerous. If we put oflE,
as we have done hitherto, the Cathohcs will be
tired out and reduced in numbers and strength.
The nobles and priests now in exile, and able to be
of such service, will break down in poverty. The
Queen of Scots may be executed or die a natural
death, or something may happen to the Catholic
King or his Holiness. The Queen of England may
herself die, a heretic Government may be recon-
structed under a heretic successor, the young
Scotch king or some other, and our case will then
be desperate ; whereas if we can prevent this and
save the Queen of Scots there will be good hope of
converting her son and reducing the whole island
to the obedience of the faith. Now is the moment.
The French Government cannot interfere. The
Duke of Guise will help us for the sake of the faith
122 ENGLISH SEAMEN
and for his kinswoman. The Turks are quiet. The
Church was never stronger or more united. Part of
Italy is under the Catholic King ; the rest is in league
with his Holiness. The revolt in the Low Countries
is all but crushed. The sea provinces are on the
point of surrendering. If they give up the contest
their harbours will be at our service for the inva-
sion. If not, the way to conquer them is to con-
quer England.
'I need not urge how much it imports his
Holiness to undertake this glorious work. He,
supremely wise as he is, knows that from this
Jezebel and her supporters come all the perils
which disturb the Christian world. He knows
that heretical depravity and all our other miseries
can only end when this woman is chastised. Ee-
verence for his Holiness and love for my afflicted
country force me to speak. I submit to his most
holy judgment myself and my advice.'
The most ardent Catholic apologist will hardly
maintain, in the face of this document, that the
English Jesuits and seminary priests were the
innocent missionaries of religion which the modem
enemies of Elizabeth's Government describe them.
Father Parsons, the writer of it, was himself the
leader and director of the Jesuit invasion, and
cannot be supposed to have misrepresented the
purpose for which they had been sent over. The
point of special interest is the account which he
PARTIES IN THE STATE 123
gives of the state of parties and general feeling in
the EngHsh people. Was there that wide disposi-
tion to welcome an invading army in so large a
majority of the nation ? The question is supposed
to have been triumphantly answered three years
later, when it is asserted that the difference of
creed was forgotten, and CathoKcs and Protestants
bought side by side for the Hberties of England.
IBut, in the first place, the circumstances were
changed. The Queen of Scots no longer lived,
and the success of the Armada impUed a foreign
sovereign. But, next, the experiment was not tried.
The battle was fought at sea, by a fleet four-fifths
of which was composed of Protestant adventurers,
fitted out and manned by those zealous Puritans
whose fidehty to the Queen Parsons himself ad-
mitted. Lord Howard may have been an Anglo-
Catholic ; Eoman Catholic he never was ; but he
and his brother were the only loyalists in the House
of Howard. Arundel and the rest of his kindred
were all that Parsons claimed for them. How the
country levies would have behaved had Parma
landed is still uncertain. It is likely that if the
Spanish army had gained a first success, there
might have been some who would have behaved as
Sir William Stanley did. It is observable that
Parsons mentions Leicester and Huntingdon as
the only powerful peers on whom the Queen could
rely, and Leicester, otherwise the unfittest man in
her dominions, she chose to command her land army.
124 ENGLISH SEAMEN
The Duke of Alva and his master Philip,
both of them distrusted political priests. Pohtical
priests, they said, did not understand the facts of
things. Theological enthusiasm made them cre-
dulous of what they wished. But Father Parsons's
estimate is confirmed in all its parts by the letters
of Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador in London.
Mendoza was himself a soldier, and his first duty
was to learn the real truth. It may be taken as
certain that, with the Queen of Scots still alive to
succeed to the throne, at the time of the scene in
the House of Commons, with which I began this
lecture, the great majority of the country party
disUked the Eeformers, and were looking forward
to the accession of a Catholic sovereign, and as a
consequence to a religious revolution.
It explains the difficulty of EKzabeth's posi-
tion and the inconsistency of her pohtical action.
Burghley, Walsingham, Mildmay, Knolles, the
elder Bacon, were beheving Protestants, and would
have had her put herself openly at the head of a
Protestant European league. They beheved that
right and justice were on their side, that their side
was God's cause, as they called it, and that God
would care for it. Elizabeth had no such complete
conviction. She disliked dogmatism, Protestant
as well as Catholic. She ridiculed Mr. Cecil and
his brothers in Christ. She thought, hke Erasmus,
that the articles of faith, for which men were so
eager to kill one another, were subjects which they
PARTIES IN THE STATE 125
knew very little about, and that every man might
think what he would on such matters without
injury to the commonwealth. To become ' head
of the name ' would involve open war ^dth the
CathoUc powers. War meant war taxes, which
more than half her subjects would resent and resist.
Eeligion as she understood it was a development
of law — ^the law of moral conduct. You could not
have two laws in one country, and you could not
have two religions ; but the outward form mattered
comparatively little. The people she ruled over
were divided about these forms. They were mainly
fools, and if she let them each have chapels and
churches of their own, molehills would become
mountains, and the congregations would go from
arguing into fighting. With Parliament to help
her, therefore, she established a Liturgy, in which
those who wished to find the Mass could hear the
Mass, while those who wanted predestination and
justification by faith could find it in the Articles.
Both could meet under a common roof, and use a
common service, if they would only be reasonable.
If they would not be reasonable, the Catholics
might have their own ritual in their own houses,
and would not be interfered with.
This system continued for the first eleven years
of Elizabeth's reign. No Catholic, she could
proudly say, had ever during that time been
molested for his belief. There was a small fine
for non-attendance at church, but even this was
126 ENGLISH SEAMEN
rarely levied, and by the confession of the Jesuits
the Queen's policy was succeeding too well. Sen-
sible men began to see that the differences of
religion were not things to quarrel over. Faith was
growing languid. The elder generation, who had
lived through the Edward and Mary revolutions,
were satisfied to be left undisturbed ; a new gene-
ration was growing up, with new ideas; and so
the Church of Eome bestirred itself. EKzabeth
was excommunicated. The cycle began of intrigue
and conspiracy, assassination plots, and Jesuit
invasions. Punishments had to follow, and in
spite of herself Elizabeth was driven into what the
Catholics could call religious persecution. Ee-
ligious it was not, for the seminary priests were
missionaries of treason. But religious it was made
to appear. The English gentleman who wished to
remain loyal, without forfeiting his faith, was taught
to see that a sovereign under the Papal curse had
no longer a claim on his allegiance. If he dis-
obeyed the Pope, he had ceased to be a member of
the Church of Christ. The Papal party grew in
coherence, while, opposed to them as their purpose
came in view, the Protestants, who at first had
been incKned to Lutheranism, adopted the deeper
and sterner creed of Calvin and Geneva. The
memories of the Marian cruelties revived again.
They saw themselves threatened with a return to
stake and fagot. They closed their ranks and
resolved to die rather than submit again to Anti-
PARTIES IN THE STATE 127
Christ. They might be inferior in numbers. A
pUbiscite in England at that moment would have
sent Burghley and Walsingham to the scaffold.
But the Lord could save by few as well as by
many. Judah had but two tribes out of the
twelve, but the words of the men of Judah were
fiercer than the words of Israel.
One great mistake had been made by Parsons.
He could not estimate what he could not under-
stand. He admitted that the inhabitants of the
towns were mainly heretic — London, Bristol,
Plymouth, and the rest — but he despised them as
merchants, craftsmen, mean persons who had no
heart to fight in them. Nothing is more remarkable
in the history of the sixteenth century than the
-effect of Calvinism in levelling distinctions of rank
and in steeling and ennobling the character of
common men. In Scotland, in the Low Countries,
in France, there was the same phenomenon. In
Scotland, the Kirk was the creation of the preachers
and the people, and peasants and workmen dared
to stand in the field against belted knights and
barons, who had trampled on their fathers for
centuries. The artisans of the Low Countries had
for twenty years defied the whole power of Spain.
The Huguenots were not a fifth part of the French
nation, yet defeat could never dishearten them.
Again and again they forced crown and nobles to
make terms with them. It was the same in England.
The allegiance to their feudal leaders dissolved
128 ENGLISH SEAMEN
into a higher obUgation to the King of kings, whose
elect they beUeved themselves to be. Election to
them was not a theological phantasm, but an
enlistment in the army of God. A little flock they
might be, but they were a dangerous people to deal
with, most of all in the towns on the sea. The sea
was the element of the Eeformers. The Popes had
no jurisdiction over the \\4nds and waves. Kochelle
was the citadel of the Huguenots. The English
merchants and mariners had wrongs of their own,
perpetually renewed, which fed the bitterness of
their indignation. Touch where they w:ould in
Spanish ports, the inquisitor's hand was on their
ships' crews, and the crews, unless they denied
their faith, were handed over to the stake or the
galleys. The Calvinists are accused of intolerance.
I fancy that even in these humane and enlightened
days we should not be very tolerant if the King of
Dahomey were to burn every European visitor to
his dominions who would not worship Mumbo
Jumbo. The Duke of Alva was not very merciful
to heretics, but he tried to bridle the zeal of the
Holy Office in burning the English seamen. Even
Philip himself remonstrated. It was to no purpose.
The Holy Office said they would think about it, but
concluded to go on. I am not the least surprised
if the English seamen were intolerant. I should be
very much surprised if they had not been. The
Queen could not protect them. They had to protect
themselves as they could, and make Spanish vessels.
PARTIES IN THE STATE 129
when they could catch them, pay for the iniquities
of their rulers.
With such a temper rising on both sides,
Elizabeth's policy had but a poor chance. She
still hoped that the better sense of mankind would
keep the doctrinal enthusiasts in order. Elizabeth
wished her subjects would be content to live
together in unity of spirit, if not in unity of theory,
in the bond of peace, not hatred, in righteousness
of life, not in orthodoxy preached by stake and
gibbet. She was content to wait and to persevere.
She refused to declare war. War would tear the
world in pieces. She knew her danger. She knew
that she was in constant peril of assassination.
She knew that if the Protestants were crushed in
Scotland, in France, and in the Low Countries,
her own turn would follow. To protect insurgents
avowedly would be to justify insurrection against
herself. But what she would not do openly she
would do secretly. What she would not do herself
she let her subjects do. Thousands of English
volunteers fought in Flanders for the States, and
in France for the Huguenots. When the English
Treasury was shut to the entreaties of Coligny or
William of Orange the London citizens untied their
purse-strings. Her friends in Scotland fared ill.
They were encouraged by promises which were not
observed, because to observe them might bring on
war. They committed themselves for her sake.
They fell one after another — Murray, Morton,
I30 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Gowrie — into bloody graves. Others took their
places and struggled on. The Scotch Reformation
was saved. Scotland was not allowed to open its
arms to an invading army to strike England across
the Border. But this was held to be their sufficient
recompense. They cared for their cause as well as
for the English Queen, and they had their reward.
If they saved her they saved their own country.
She too did not lie on a bed of roses. To prevent
open war she was exposing her own life to the
assassin. At any moment a pistol-shot or a stab
with a dagger might add Elizabeth to the list of
victims. She knew it, yet she went on upon her
own policy, and faced in her person her own share
of the risk. One thing only she did. If she would
not defend her friends and her subjects as Queen
of England, she left them free to defend themselves.
She allowed traitors to be hanged when they were
caught at their work. She allowed the merchants
to fit out their privateer fleets, to defend at their
own cost the shores of England, and to teach the
Spaniards to fear their vengeance.
But how long was all this to last ? How long
were loyal citizens to feel that they were living over
a loaded mine — throughout their own country,
throughout the Continent, at Rome and at Madrid,
at Brussels and at Paris, a legion of conspirators
were driving their shafts under the English
commonwealth. The Queen might be indifferent
to her own danger, but on the Queen's life hung
PARTIES IN THE STATE 131
the peace of the whole reahn. A stroke of a
poniard, a touch of a trigger, and swords would
be flying from their scabbards in every county ;
England would become, Uke France, one wild scene
of anarchy and civil war. No successor had been
named. The Queen refused to hear a successor
declared. Mary Stuart's hand had been in every
plot since she crossed the Border. Twice the House
of Commons had petitioned for her execution.
EUzabeth would neither touch her Ufe nor allow
her hopes of the crown to be taken from her. The
Bond of Association was but a remedy of despair,
and the Act of ParUament would have passed for
little in the tempest which would immediately
rise. The agony reached a height when the fatal
news came from the Netherlands that there at last
assassination had done its work. The Prince of
Orange, after many failures, had been finished, and
a Ubel was found in the Palace at Westminster
exhorting the ladies of the household to provide a
Judith among themselves to rid the world of the
EngUsh Holofernes.
One part of Ehzabeth's subjects, at any rate,
were not disposed to sit down in patience under the
eternal nightmare. From Spain was to come the
army of deUverance for which the Jesuits were so
passionately longing. To the Spaniards the Pope
was looking for the execution of the Bull of Depo-
sition. Father Parsons had left out of his estimate
K 2
i
132 ENGLISH SEAMEN
the Protestant adventurers of London and Ply-
mouth, who, besides their creed and their patriot-
ism, had their private wrongs to revenge. Philip
might talk of peace, and perhaps in weariness might
at times seriously wish for it ; but between the
Englishmen whose life was on the ocean and the
Spanish Inquisition, which had burned so many of
them, there was no peace possible. To them, Spain
was the natural enemy. Among the daring spirits
who had sailed with Drake round the globe, who
had waylaid the Spanish gold ships, and startled
the world with their exploits, the joy of whose lives
had been to fight Spaniards wherever they could
meet with them, there was but one wish — for an
honest open war. The great galleons were to them
no objects of terror. The Spanish naval power
seemed to them a ' Colossus stuffed with clouts.'
They were. Protestants all of them, but their theo-
logy was rather practical than speculative. If
Italians and Spaniards chose to believe in the
Mass, it was not any affair of theirs. Their quarrel
was with the insolent pretence of Catholics to force
their creed on others with sword and cannon. The
spirit which was working in them was the genius
of freedom. On their own element they felt that
they could be the spiritual tjrrants' masters. But
as things were going, rebellion was likely to break
out at home ; their homesteads might be burning,
their country overrun with the Prince of Parma's
army, the Inquisition at their own doors, and a
PARTIES IN THE STATE 133
Catholic sovereign bringing back the fagots of
Smithfield.
The Reformation at its origin was no introduc-
tion of novel heresies. It was a revolt of the laity
of Europe against the profligacy and avarice of the
clergy. The popes and cardinals pretended to be
the representatives of Heaven. When called to
account for abuse of their powers, they had behaved
precisely as mere corrupt human kings and aristo-
cracies behave. They had intrigued; they had
excommunicated ; they had set nation against
nation, sovereigns against their subjects ; they had
encouraged assassination; they had made them-
selves infamous by horrid massacres, and had taught
one half of foolish Christendom to hate the other.
The hearts of the poor English seamen whose com-
irades had been burnt at Seville to make a Spanish
lioliday, thrilled with a sacred determination to end
such scenes. The purpose that was in them broke
into a wild war-music, as the wind harp swells and
screams under the breath of the storm. I found
in the Eecord Office an unsigned letter of some
inspired old sea-dog, written in a bold round hand
and addressed to Elizabeth. The ships' companies
which in summer served in Philip's men-of-war
went in winter in thousands to catch cod on the
Banks of Newfoundland. ' Give me five vessels,'
the writer said, ^ and I will go out and sink them
all, and the galleons shall rot in Cadiz Harbour for
want of hands to sail them. But decide. Madam,
134 ENGLISH SEAMEN
and decide quickly. Time flies, and will not return.
The wings of man's life are plumed with the feathers
of death,'
The Queen did not decide. The five ships were
not sent, and the poor Castilian sailors caught their
cod in peace. But in spite of herself Elizabeth
was driven forward by the tendencies of things.
The death of the Prince of Orange left the Statea
without a Government. The Prince of Parma
was pressing them hard. Without a leader they
were lost. They offered themselves to Elizabeth,
to be incorporated in the Enghsh Empire. They
said that if she refused they must either submit
to Spain or become provinces of France. The
Netherlands, whether Spanish or French, would
be equally dangerous to England. The Nether-
lands once brought back under the Pope, England's
turn would come next ; while to accept the pro-
posal meant instant and desperate war, both with
France and Spain too — for France would never
allow England again to gain a foot on the Conti-
nent. Ehzabeth knew not what to do. She would
and she would not. She did not accept ; she did
not refuse. It was neither No nor Yes. Philip,
who was as fond of indirect ways as herself, pro-
posed to quicken her irresolution.
The harvest had failed in GaUcia, and the popu-
lation were starving. England grew more com
than she wanted, and, under a special promise that
the crews should not be molested, a fleet of com-
PARTIES IN THE STATE 135
traders had gone with cargoes of grain to Coruna,
Bilbao, and Santander. The King of Spain, on
hearing that EUzabeth was treating with the States,
issued a sudden order to seize the vessels, confis-
cate the cargoes, and imprison the men. The
order was executed. One EngUsh ship only was
lucky enough to escape by the adroitness of her
conmiander. The Primrose^ of London, lay in
Bilbao Koads with a captain and fifteen hands.
The mayor, on receiving the order, came on board
to look over the ship. He then went on shore for
a sufficient force to carry out the seizure. After
he was gone the captain heard of the fate which
was intended for him. The mayor returned with
two boatloads of soldiers, stepped up the ladder,
touched the captain on the shoulder, and told him
he was a prisoner. The Englishmen snatched pike
and cutlass, pistol and battleaxe, killed seven or
eight of the Spanish boarders, threw the rest over-
board, and flung stones on them as they scrambled
into their boats. The mayor, who had fallen into
the sea, caught a rope and was hauled up when
the fight was over. The cable was cut, the sails
hoisted, and in a few minutes the Primrose was
under way for England, with the mayor of Bilbao
below the hatches. No second vessel got away.
If PhiUp had meant to frighten Elizabeth he could
not have taken a worse means of doing it, for he
had exasperated that particular part of the English
population which was least afraid of him. He had
136 ENGLISH SEAMEN
broken faith besides, and had seized some hundreds
of merchants and sailors who had gone merely to
reUeve Spanish distress. EUzabeth, as usual, would
not act herself. She sent no ships from her own
navy to demand reparation ; but she gave the
adventurers a free hand. The London and Ply-
mouth citizens determined to read Spain a lesson
which should make an impression. They had the
worst fears for the fate of the prisoners ; but if they
could not save, they could avenge them. Sir
Francis Drake, who wished for nothing better than
to be at work again, volunteered his services, and
a fleet was collected at Plymouth of twenty-five
sail, every one of them fitted out by private enter-
prise. No finer armament, certainly no better-
equipped armament, ever left the EngUsh shores.
The expenses were, of course, enormous. Of sea-
men and soldiers there were between two and three
thousand. Drake's name was worth an army.
The cost was to be recovered out of the expedition
somehow ; the Spaniards were to be made to pay
for it ; but how or when was left to Drake's judg-
ment. This time there was no second in command
sent by the friends of Spain to hang upon his arm.
By universal consent he had the absolute com-
mand. His instructions were merely to inquire
at Spanish ports into the meaning of the arrest.
Beyond that he was left to go where he pleased
and do what he pleased on his own responsibility.
The Queen said frankly that if it proved convenient
.^•.1
PARTIES IN THE STATE 137
she intended to disown him. Drake had no objection
to being disowned, so he could teach the Spaniards
to be more careful how they handled Englishmen.
What came of it will be the subject of the next
lecture. Father Parsons said the Protestant traders
of England had grown eflEeminate and dared not
fight. In the ashes of their own smoking cities
the Spaniards had to learn that Father Parsons
had misread his countrymen. If Drake had been
given to heroics he might have left Virgil's lines
inscribed above the broken arms of Castile at St.
Domingo :
En ego victa situ quam veri effeta senectus
Arma inter regum falsa formidine ludit :
Eespice ad bsec.
138 ENGLISH SEAMEN
LECTUEE VI
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES
Queen Elizabeth and her brother-in-law of Spain
were reluctant champions of opposing principles.
In themselves they had no wish to quarrel, but
each was driven forward by fate and circumstance
— Phihp by the genius of the Catholic religion,
Elizabeth by the enthusiasts for freedom and by
the advice of statesmen who saw no safety for her
except in daring. Both wished for peace, and
refused to see that peace was impossible ; but both
were compelled to yield to their subjects' eager-
ness. Philip had to threaten England with inva-
sion ; EHzabeth had to show Philip that England
had a long arm, which Spanish wisdom would
do well to fear. It was a singular position.
Philip had outraged orthodoxy and dared the anger
of Eome by maintaining an ambassador at Eliza-
beth's Court after her excommunication. He had
laboured for a reconciUation with a sincerity which
his secret letters make it impossible to doubt. He
had condescended even to sue for it) in spite of
Drake and the voyage of the Pelican; yet he
had helped the Pope to set Ireland in a flame. He
had encouraged Elizabeth's Catholic subjects in
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 139
conspiracy after conspiracy. He had approved of
attempts to dispose of her as he had disposed of
the Prince of Orange. Elizabeth had retaUated,
though with half a heart, by letting her soldiers
volunteer into the service of the revolted Nether-
lands, by permitting Enghsh privateers to plunder
the Spanish colonies, seize the gold ships, and
revenge their own wrongs. Each, perhaps, had
wished to show the other what an open war would
cost them both, and each drew back when war
appeared inevitable.
Events went their way. Holland and Zeeland,
driven to extremity, had petitioned for incorpora-
tion with England ; as a counter-stroke and a warn-
ing, Philip had arrested the English corn ships
and imprisoned the owners and the crews. Her
own fleet was nothing. The safety of the English
shores depended on the spirit of the adventurers,
and she could not afford to check the anger with
which the news was received. To accept the offer
of the States was war, and war she would not have.
Herself, she would not act at all ; but in her usual
way she might let her subjects act for themselves,
and plead, as Philip pleaded in excuse for the
Inquisition, that she could not restrain them. And
thus it was that in September 1686, Sir Francis
Drake found himself with a fleet of twenty-five
privateers and 2,600 men who had volunteered to
serve with him under his own command. He had
no distinct commission. The expedition had been
I40 ENGLISH SEAMEN
fitted out as a private undertaking. Neither officers
nor crews had been engaged for the service of the
Crown. They received no wages. In the eye of
the law they were pirates. They were going on
their own account to read the King of Spain a
necessary lesson and pay their expenses at the
King of Spain's cost. Young Protestant England
had taken fire. The name of Drake set every
Protestant heart burning, and hundreds of gallant
gentlemen had pressed in to join. A grandson of
Burghley had come, and Edward Winter the
Admiral's son, and Francis Knolles the Queen's
cousin, and Martin Frobisher, and Christopher Car-
lile. Philip Sidney had wished to make one also
in the glory ; but Phihp Sidney was needed else-
where. The Queen's consent had been won from
her at a bold interval in her shifting moods. The
hot fit might pass away, and Burghley sent Drake a
hint to be off before her humour changed. No word
was said. On the morning of the 14th of September
the signal flag was flying from Drake's maintop
to up anchor and away. Drake, as he admitted
after, ' was not the most assured of her Majesty's
perseverance to let them go forward.' Past Ushant
he would be beyond reach of recall. With light
winds and calms they drifted across the Bay. They
fell in with a few Frenchmen homeward-bound from
the Banks, and let them pass uninjured. A large
Spanish ship which they met next day, loaded with
excellent fresh salt fish, was counted lawful prize.
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 141
The fish was new and good, and was distributed
through the fleet. Standing leisurely on, they cleared
Finisterre and came up with the Isles of Bayona, at
the mouth of Vigo Harbour. They dropped anchor
there, and ' it was a great matter and a royal sight
to see them.' The Spanish Governor, Don Pedro
Bemadero, sent off with some astonishment to
know who and what they were. Drake answered
with a question whether England and Spain were
at war, and if not why the English merchants had
been arrested. Don Pedro could but say that he
knew of no war, and for the merchants an order
had come for their release. For reply Drake landed
part of his force on the islands, and Don Pedro, not
knowing what to make of such visitors, found it
best to propitiate them with cartloads of wine and
fruit. The weather, which had been hitherto fine,
showed signs of change. The wind rose, and the
sea with it. The anchorage was exposed, and
Drake sent Christopher Carlile with one of his
ships and a few pinnaces, up the harbour to look
out for better shelter. Their appearance created a
panic in the town. The alarmed inhabitants took
to their boats, carrying off their property and their
Church plate. Carlile, who had a Calvinistic objec-
tion to idolatry, took the liberty of detaining part
of these treasures. From one boat he took a
massive silver cross belonging to the High Church
at Vigo ; from another an image of Our Lady,
which the sailors relieved of her clothes and were
142 ENGLISH SEAMEN
said, when she was stripped, to have treated with
some indignity. Carhle's report being satisfactory,
the whole fleet was brought the next day up the
harbour and moored above the town. The news
had by this time spread into the country. The
Governor of Gahcia came down with all the force
which he could collect in a hurry. Perhaps he was
in time to save Vigo itself. Perhaps Drake, having
other aims in view, did not care to be detained
over a smaller object. The Governor, at any rate,
saw that the English were too strong for him to
meddle with. The best that he could look for was
to persuade them to go away on the easiest terms.
Drake and he met in boats for a parley. Drake
wanted water and fresh provisions. Drake was to
be allowed to furnish himself undisturbed. He had
secured what he most wanted. He had shown the
King of Spain that he was not invulnerable in his
own home dominion, and he sailed away unmolested.
Madrid was in consternation. That the English
could dare insult the first prince in Europe on the
sacred soil of the Peninsula itself seemed like a
dream. The Council of State sat for three days
considering the meaning of it. Drake's name was
already familiar in Spanish ears. It was not con-
ceivable that he had come only to inquire after the
arrested ships and seamen. But what could the
EngHsh Queen be about ? Did she not know that she
existed only by the forbearance of Philip ? Did she
know the King of Spain's force ? Did not she and
.^.
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 143
her people quake ? Little England, it was said by
some of these councillors, was to be swallowed at a
mouthful by the King of half the world. The old
Admiral Santa Cruz was less confident about the
swallowing. He observed that England had many
teeth, and that instead of boasting of Spanish great-
ness it would be better to provide against what she
might do with them. Till now the corsairs had
appeared only in twos and threes. With such a fleet
behind him Drake might go where he pleased. He
might be going to the South Seas again. He might
take Madeira if he liked, or the Canary Islands. Santa
Cruz himself thought he would make for the West
Indies and Panama, and advised the sending out
there instantly every available ship that they had.
The gold fleet was Drake's real object. He had
information that it would be on its way to Spain
by the Cape de Verde Islands, and he had learnt
the time when it was to be expected. From Vigo
he sailed for the Canaries, looked in at Palma, with
* intention to have taken our pleasure there,' but
found the landing dangerous and the town itself not
worth the risk. He ran on to the Cape de Verde
Islands. He had measured his time too narrowly.
The gold fleet had arrived and had gone. He had
missed it by twelve hours, ' the reason,' as he said
with a sigh, ' best known to God.' The chance of
prize money was lost, but the poUtical purpose of
the expedition could still be completed. The Cape
de Verde Islands could not sail away, and a begin-
144 ENGLISH SEAMEN
ning could be made with Sant lago. Sant lago
was a thriving, well-populated town, and down in
Drake's book as specially needing notice, some
Plymouth sailors having been recently murdered
there. Christopher Carlile, always handy and
trustworthy, was put on shore with a thousand
men to attack the place on the undefended side.
The Spanish commander, the bishop, and most of
the people fled, as at Vigo, into the mountains
with their plate and money. Carlile entered with-
out opposition, and flew St. George's Cross from
the castle as a signal to the fleet. Drake came in,
landed the rest of his force, and took possession.
It happened to be the 17th of November — the anni-
versary of the Queen's accession — and ships and
batteries, dressed out with English flags, celebrated
the occasion with salvoes of cannon. Houses and
magazines were then searched and plundered.
Wine was found in large quantities, rich mer-
chandise for the Indian trade, and other valuables.
Of gold and silver nothing — it had all been re-
moved. Drake waited for a fortnight, hoping that
the Spaniards would treat for the ransom of the
city. When they made no sign, he marched twelve
miles inland to a village where the Governor and
the Bishop were said to have taken refuge. But
the village was found deserted. The Spaniards
had gone to the mountains, where it was useless
to follow them, and were too proud to bargain with
a pirate chief. Sant lago was a beautifully built
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 145
city, and Drake would perhaps have spared it ; but
a ship-boy who had strayed was found murdered
and barbarously mutilated. The order was given
to bum. Houses, magazines, churches, public
buildings were turned to ashes, and the work being
finished Drake went on, as Santa Cruz expected,
for the Spanish West Indies. The Spaniards were
magnificent in all that they did and touched. They
built their cities in their new possessions on the
most splendid models of the Old World. St.
Domingo and Carthagena had their castles and
cathedrals, palaces, squares, and streets, grand and
soKd as those at Cadiz and Seville, and raised as
enduring monuments of the power and greatness
)f the CastiUan monarchs. To these Drake meant
o pay a visit. Beyond them was the Isthmus,
v^here he had made his first fame and fortune, with
Manama behind, the dep6t of the Indian treasure.
5o far all had gone well with him. He had taken
vhat he wanted out of Vigo ; he had destroyed
5ant lago and had not lost a man. Unfortunately
16 had now a worse enemy to deal with than
Spanish galleons or Spanish garrisons. He was in
ihe heat of the tropics. Yellow fever broke out
^nd spread through the fleet. Of those who
3aught the infection few recovered, or recovered
only to be the wrecks of themselves. It was swift
in its work. In a few days more than two hundred
liad died. But the north-east trade blew merrily.
The fleet sped on before it. In eighteen days they
146 ENGLISH SEAMEN
were in the roads at Dominica, the island of brooks
and rivers and fruit. Limes and lemons and oranges
were not as yet. But there were leaves and roots of
the natural growth, known to the Caribs as antidotes
to the fever, and the Caribs, when they learnt that
the English were the Spaniards' enemies, brought
them this precious remedy and taught them the
use of it. The ships were washed and ventilated,
and the water casks refilled. The infection seemed
to have gone as suddenly as it appeared, and again
all was well.
Christmas was kept at St. Kitts, which was
then uninhabited. A council of war was held to
consider what should be done next. St. Domingo
lay nearest to them. It was the finest of all the
Spanish colonial cities. It was the capital of the
West Indian Government, the great centre of
West Indian commerce. In the cathedral, before
the high altar, lay Columbus and his brother
Diego. In natural wealth no island in the world
outrivals Espinola, where the city stood. A vast
population had collected there, far away from
harm, protected as they supposed, by the majesty
of the mother country, the native inhabitants
almost exterminated, themselves undreaming that
any enemy could approach them from the ocean,
and therefore negligent of defence and enjoying
themselves in easy security.
Drake was to give them a new experience and
a lesson for the future. On their way across from
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 147
St. Kitts the adventurers overhauled a small vessel
bound to the same port as they were. From the
crew of this vessel they learnt that the harbour at
St. Domingo was formed, hke so many others in
the West Indies, by a long sandspit, acting as a
natural breakwater. The entrance was a narrow
inlet at the extremity of the spit, and batteries had
been mounted there to cover it. To land on the
outer side of the sandbank was made impossible by
the surf. There was one sheltered point only
where boats could go on shore, but this was ten
miles distant from the town.
Ten miles was but a morning's march. Drake
went in himself in a pinnace, surveyed the landing-
place, and satisfied himself of its safety. The plan
of attack at Sant lago was to be exactly repeated.
On New Year's Eve Christopher Carlile was again
landed with half the force in the fleet. Drake
remained with the rest, and prepared to force the
entrance of the harbour if Carlile succeeded. Their
coming had been seen from the city. The alarm
had been given, and the women and children, the
money in the treasury, the consecrated plate,
movable property of all kinds, were sent off inland
as a precaution. Of regular troops there seem to
have been none, but in so populous a city there was
no difficulty in collecting a respectable force to
defend it. The hidalgos formed a body of cavalry.
The people generally were unused to arms, but they
were Spaniards and brave men, and did not mean
L 2
148 ENGLISH SEAMEN
to leave their homes without a fight for it. Carlile
lay still for the night. He marched at eight in the
morning on New Year's Day, advanced leisurely,
and at noon found himself in front of the wall. So
far he had met no resistance, but a considerable
body of horse — gentlemen and their servants chiefly
— charged down on him out of the bush and out of
the town. He formed into a square to receive
them. They came on gallantly, but were received
with pike and shot, and after a few attempts gave
up and retired. Two gates were in front of Carlile,
with a road to each leading through a jungle.
At each gate were cannon, and the jungle was lined
with musketeers. He divided his men and attacked
both together. One party he led in person. The
cannon opened on him, and an EngUshman next
to him was killed. He dashed on, leaving the
Spaniards no time to reload, carried the gate at a
rush, and cut his way through the streets to the
great square. The second division had been
equally successful, and St. Domingo was theirs
except the castle, which was still untaken. CarHle's
numbers were too small to occupy a large city. He
threw up barricades and fortified himself in the
square for the night. Drake brought the fleet in at
daybreak, and landed guns, when the castle sur-
rendered. A messenger — a negro boy — was sent
to the governor to learn the terms which he was
prepared to offer to save the city from pillage. The
Spanish officers were smarting with the disgrace.
. • r
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 149
One of them struck the lad through the body with
a lance. He ran back bleeding to the Enghsh hues
and died at Drake's feet. Sir Francis was a
dangerous man to provoke. Such doings had to
be promptly stopped. In the part of the town
which he occupied was a monastery with a number
of friars in it. The rehgious orders, he well knew,
were the chief instigators of the pohcy which was
maddening the world. He sent two of these friars
with the provost-marshal to the spot where the boy
had been struck, promptly hanged them, and then
despatched another to tell the governor that he
would hang two more every day at the same place
till the officer was punished. The Spaniards had
long learnt to call Drake the Draque, the serpent,
the devil. They feared that the devil might be a
man of his word. The offender was surrendered.
It was not enough. Drake insisted that they
should do justice on him themselves. The governor
found it prudent to comply, and the too hasty officer
was executed.
The next point was the ransom of the city.
The Spaniards still hesitating, 200 men were
told off each morning to bum, while the rest
searched the private houses, and palaces, and
magazines. Government House was the grandest
building in the New World. It was approached by
broad flights of marble stairs. Great doors opened
on a spacious gallery leading into a great hall, and
above the portico hung the arms of Spain — a globe
/
ISO ENGLISH SEAMEN
representing the world, a horse leaping upon it, and
in the horse's mouth a scroll with the haughty
motto, ' Non sufficit orbis.' Palace and scutcheon
were levelled into dust by axe and gunpowder, and
each day for a month the destruction went on,
Drake's demands steadily growing and the unhappy
governor vainly pleading impossibility.
Vandahsm, atrocity unheard of among civilised
nations, dishonour to the Protestant cause, Drake
deserving to swing at his own yardarm ; so indignant
Liberahsm shrieked, and has not ceased shrieking.
Let it be remembered that for fifteen years the
Spaniards had been burning Enghsh seamen when-
ever they could catch them, plotting to kill the
Queen and reduce England itself into vassaldom to
the Pope. The Enghsh nation, the loyal part of it,
were replying to the wild pretension by the hands
of their own admiral. If Philip chose to counte-
nance assassins, if the Holy Office chose to bum
Enghsh sailors as heretics, those heretics had a
right to make Spain understand that such a game
was dangerous, that, as Santa Cruz had said, they
had teeth and could use them.
It was found in the end that the governor's
plea of impossibility was more real than was at first
beheved. The gold and silver had been really
carried off. All else that was valuable had been
burnt or taken by the English. The destruction
of a city so soUdly built was tedious and difficult.
Nearly half of it was blown up. The cathedral was
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 151
spared, perhaps as the resting-place of Columbus.
Drake had other work before him. After staying
a month in undisturbed occupation he agreed to
accept 26,000 ducats as a ransom for what was
left and sailed away.
It was now February. The hot season was
coming on, when the climate would be dangerous.
There was still much to do and the time was nm-
ning short. Panama had to be left for another
opportunity. Drake's object was to deal blows
which would shake the faith of Europe in the
Spanish power. Carthagena stood next to St.
Domingo among the Spanish West Indian for-
tresses. The situation was strong. In 1740 Car-
thagena was able to beat off Vernon and a great
Enghsh fleet. But Drake's crews were in high
health and spirits, and he determined to see what
he could do with it. Surprise was no longer to be
hoped for. The alarm had spread over the Carib-
bean Sea. But in their present humour they were
ready to go anywhere and dare anything, and to
Carthagena they went.
Drake's name carried terror before it. Every
non-combatant — old men, women and children —
had been cleared out before he arrived, but the rest
prepared for a smart defence. The harbour at
Carthagena was formed, as at St. Domingo and
Port Eoyal, by a sandspit. The spit was long,
narrow, in places not fifty yards wide, and covered
with prickly bush, and along this, as before, it waa
152 ENGLISH SEAMEN
necessary to advance to reach the city. A trench
had been cut across at the neck, and a stiff barri-
cade built and armed with heavy guns; behind
this were several hundred musketeers, while the
bush was full of Indians with poisoned arrows.
Pointed stakes — poisoned also — ^had been driven
into the ground along the approaches, on which to
step was death. Two large galleys, full of men,
patrolled inside the bank on the harbour edge, and
with these preparations the inhabitants hoped to
keep the dreadful Drake from reaching them.
Carlile, as before, was to do the land fighting. He
was set on shore three miles down the spit. The
tide is shght in those seas, but he waited till it was
out, and advanced along the outer shore at low-
water mark. He was thus covered by the bank
from the harbour galleys, and their shots passed
over him. Two squadrons of horse came out, but
could do nothing to him on the broken ground.
The EngUsh pushed on to the wall, scarcely losing
a man. They charged, scaled the parapets, and
drove the Spanish infantry back at point of pike.
Carlile killed their commander with his own hand.
The rest fled after a short struggle, and Drake was
master of Carthagena. Here for six weeks he
remained. The Spaniards withdrew out of the
city, and there were again parleys over the ransom
money. Courtesies were exchanged among the
officers. Drake entertained the governor and
his suite. The governor returned the hospitality
•r
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 153
and received Drake and the English captains.
Drake demanded 100,000 ducats. The Span-
iards oflEered 30,000, and protested that they
could pay no more. The dispute might have
lasted longer, but it was cut short by the re-
appearance of the yellow fever in the fleet, this
time in a deadlier form. The Spanish offer was
accepted, and Carthagena was left to its owners.
It was time to be off, for the heat was telling, and
the men began to drop with appalling rapidity.
Nombre de Dios and Panama were near and under
their lee, and Drake threw longing eyes on what, if
all else had been well, might have proved an easy
capture. But on a review of their strength, it was
found that there were but 700 fit for duty who
could be spared for the service, and a council of
war decided that a march across the Isthmus with
so small a force was too dangerous to be ventured.
Enough had been done for glory, enough for the
political impression to be made in Europe. The
King of Spain had been dared in his own dominions.
Three fine Spanish cities had been captured by
storm and held to ransom. In other aspects the
success had fallen short of expectation. This time
they had taken no Cacafuego with a year's produce
of the mines in her hold. The plate and coin had
been carried off, and the spoils had been in a form
not easily turned to value. The expedition had
been fitted out by private persons to pay its own
cost. The result in money was but 60,000Z. Forty
154 ENGLISH SEAMEN
thousand had to be set aside for expenses. There
remained but 20,000Z. to be shared among the
ships' companies. Men and officers had entered,
high and low, without wages, on the chance of
what they might get. The officers and owners
gave a significant demonstration of the splendid
spirit in which they had gone about their work.
They decided to rehnquish their own claims on the
ransom paid for Carthagena, and bestow the same
on the common seamen, ' wishing it were so much
again as would be a sufficient reward for their
painful endeavour.'
Thus all were well satisfied, conscious all that
they had done their duty to their Queen and
country. The adventurers' fleet turned homewards
at the beginning of April. What men could do
they had achieved. They could not fight against
the pestilence of the tropics. For many days the
yellow fever did its deadly work among them, and
only slowly abated. They were delayed by calms
and unfavourable winds. Their water ran short.
They had to land again at Cape Antonio, the
western point of Cuba, and sink wells to supply
themselves. Drake himself, it was observed,
worked with spade and bucket, hke the meanest
person in the whole company, always foremost
where toil was to be endured or honour won, the
wisest in the devising of enterprises, the calmest in
danger, the first to set an example of energy in
difficulties, and, above all, the firmest in maintain-
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 155
ing order and discipline. The fever slackened as
they reached the cooler latitudes. They worked
their way up the Bahama Channel, going north to
avoid the trades. The French Protestants had
been attempting to colonise in Florida. The
Spaniards had built a fortress on the coast, to ob-
serve their settlements and, as occasion offered, cut
Huguenot throats. As he passed by Drake paid
this fortress a visit and wiped it out. Farther
north again he was in time to save the remnant of
an Enghsh settlement, rashly planted there by
another brilliant servant of Queen Ehzabeth.
Of all the famous Elizabethans Sir Walter
Ealeigh is the most romantically interesting. His
splendid and varied gifts, his chequered fortunes,
and his cruel end, will embalm his memory in
Enghsh history. But Ealeigh's great accomphsh-
ments promised more than they performed. His
hand was in everything, but of w^ork successfully
completed he had less to show than others far his
inferiors, to whom fortune had offered fewer oppor-
tunities. He was engaged in a hundred schemes
at once, and in every one of them there was always
some taint of self, some personal ambition or private
object to be gained. His hfe is a record of under-
takings begun in enthusiasm, maintained imper-
fectly, and failures in the end. Among his other
adventures he had sent a colony to Virginia. He
had imagined, or had been led by others to beheve,
that there was an Indian Court there brilliant as
156 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Montezuma's, an enlightened nation crying to be
admitted within the charmed circle of Gloriana's
subjects. His princes and princesses proved things
of air, or mere Indian savages; and of Kaleigh
there remains nothing in Virginia save the name
of the city which is called after him. The starving
survivors of his settlement on the Koanoke Eiver
were taken on board by Drake's returning squadron
and carried home to England, where they all
arrived safely, to the glory of God, as our pious
ancestors said and meant in unconventional
sincerity, on the 28th of July, 1686.
The expedition, as I have said, barely paid its
cost. In the shape of wages the officers received
nothing, and the crews but a few pounds a man ;
but there was, perhaps, not one of them who was
not better pleased with the honour which he had
brought back than if he had come home loaded
with doubloons.
Startled Catholic Europe meanwhile rubbed its
eyes and began to see that the ^enterprise of
England,' as the intended invasion was called,
might not be the easy thing which the seminary
priests described it. The seminary priests had
said that so far as England was Protestant at all it
was Protestant only by the accident of its Govern-
ment, that the immense majority of the people
were Cathohc at heart and were thirsting for a
return to the fold, that on the first appearance of
a Spanish army of deliverance the whole edifice
/. ^
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 157
which Elizabeth had raised would crumble to the
ground. I suppose it is true that if the world had
then been advanced to its present point of progress,
if there had been then recognised a Divine right to
rule in the numerical majority, even without a
Spanish army the seminary priests would have
had their way. Elizabeth's Parliaments were con-
trolled by the municipalities of the towns, and the
towns were Protestant. A Parliament chosen by
universal suffrage and electoral districts would have
sent Cecil and Walsingham into private life or to
the scaffold, replaced the Mass in the churches, and
reduced the Queen, if she had been left on the
throne, into the humble servant of the Pope and
Philip. It would not perhaps have lasted, but
that, so far as I can judge, would have been the
immediate result, and instead of a Keformation we
should have had the light come in the shape of
lightning. But I have often asked my Kadical
friends what is to be done if out of every hundred
enlightened voters two-thirds will give their votes
one way, but are afraid to fight, and the remaining
third will not only vote but will fight too if the poll
goes against them. Which has then the right to
rule ? I can tell them which will rule. The brave
and resolute minority will rule. Plato says that if
one man was stronger than all the rest of mankind
he would rule all the rest of mankind. It must be
so, because there is no appeal. The majority must
be prepared to assert their Divine right with their
158 ENGLISH SEAMEN
right hands, or it will go the way that other Divine
rights have gone before. I will not believe the
world to have been so ill-constructed that there are
rights which cannot be enforced. It appears to me
that the true right to rule in any nation lies with
those who are best and bravest, whether their
numbers are large or small ; and three centuries
ago the best and bravest part of this English nation
had determined, though they were but a third of
it, that Pope and Spaniard should be no masters of
theirs. Imagination goes for much in such excited
times. To the imagination of Europe in the
sixteenth century the power of Spain appeared
irresistible if she chose to exert it. Heretic Dutch-
men might rebel in a remote province, English
pirates might take liberties with Spanish traders,
but the Prince of Parma was making the Dutchmen
feel their master at last. The pirates were but so
many wasps, with venom in their stings, but
powerless to affect the general tendencies of things.
Except to the shrewder eyes of such men as Santa
Cruz the strength of the English at sea had been
left out of count in the calculations of the resources
of Elizabeth's Government. Suddenly a fleet of
these same pirates, sent out, unassisted by their
sovereign, by the private impulse of a few in-
dividuals, had insulted the sacred soil of Spain
herself, sailed into Vigo, pillaged the churches,
taken anjrthing that they required, and had gone
away unmolested. They had attacked, stormed,
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES 159
burnt, or held to ransom three of Spain's proudest
colonial cities, and had come home unfought with.
The Catholic conspirators had to recognise that
they had a worse enemy to deal with than Puritan
controversialists or spoilt Court favourites. The
Protestant English mariners stood between them
and their prey, and had to be encountered on an
element which did not bow to popes or princes,
before Mary Stuart was to wear Elizabeth's crown
or Cardinal Allen be enthroned at Canterbury. It
was a revelation to all parties. Elizabeth herself
had not expected — perhaps had not wished — so
signal a success. War was now looked on as in-
evitable. The Spanish admirals represented that
the national honour required revenge for an injury
so open and so insolent. The Pope, who had been
long goading the lethargic Philip into action,
believed that now at last he would be compelled
to move ; and even Philip himself, enduring as
he was, had been roused to perceive that in-
trigues and conspiracies would serve his turn no
longer. He must put out his strength in earnest,
or his own Spaniards might turn upon him as
unworthy of the crown of Isabella. Very reluc-
tantly he allowed the truth to be brought home to
him. He had never liked the thought of invading
England. If he conquered it, he would not be
allowed to keep it. Mary Stuart would have to be
made queen, and Mary Stuart was part French,
and might be wholly French. The burden of the
i6o ENGLISH SEAMEN
work would be thrown entirely on his shoulders,
and his own reward was to be the Church's blessing
and the approval of his own conscience — nothing
else, so far as he could see. The Pope would
recover his annates, his Peter's pence, and his
indulgence market.
If the thing was to be done, the Pope, it was
clear, ought to pay part of the cost, and this was
what the Pope did not intend to do if he could help
it. The Pope was flattering himself that Drake's
performance would compel Spain to go to war
with England whether he assisted or did not. In
this matter Philip attempted to undeceive his
Holiness. He instructed Olivarez, his ambassador
at Kome, to tell the Pope that nothing had been
yet done to him by the English which he could not
overlook, and unless the Pope would come down
with a handsome contribution peace he would make.
The Pope stormed and raged ; he said he doubted
whether Philip was a true son of the Church at all ;
he flung plates and dishes at the servants' heads
at dinner. He said that if he gave Philip money
Philip would put it in his pocket and laugh at him.
Not one maravedi would he give till a Spanish army
was actually landed on English shores, and from
this resolution he was not to be moved.
To Philip it was painfully certain that if he
invaded and conquered England the English
Catholics would insist that he must make Mary
Stuart queen. He did not like Mary Stuart. He ,
-'iinl HMJ
THE GREAT EXPEDITION TO THE WEST INDIES i6i
disapproved of her character. He distrusted her
promises. Spite of Jesuits and seminary priests,
he believed that she was still a Frenchwoman at
heart, and a bad woman besides. Yet something he
must do for the outraged honour of Castile. He
concluded, in his slow way, that he would collect a
fleet, the largest and best-appointed that had ever
floated on the sea. He would send or lead it in
person to the English Channel. He would com-
mand the situation with an overwhelming force,
and then would choose some course which would
be more convenient to himself than to his Holiness
at Rome. On the whole he was inclined to let
Elizabeth continue queen, and forget and forgive
if she would put away her Walsinghams and her
Drakes, and would promise to be good for the
future. If she remained obstinate his great fleet
would cover the passage of the Prince of Parma's
army, and he would then dictate his own terms in
London.
m:
i62 ENGLISH SEAMEN
LECTUKE VII
ATTACK ON CADIZ
I RECOLLECT being told when a boy, on sending in
a bad translation of Horace, that I ought to
remember that Horace was a man of intelligence
and did not write nonsense. The same caution
should be borne in mind by students of history.
They see certain things done by kings and states-
men which they beheve they can interpret by as-
suming such persons to have been knaves or idiots.
Once an explanation given from the baser side of
human nature, they assume that it is necessarily
the right one, and they make their Horace into a
fool without a misgiving that the folly may lie else-
where. Kemarkable men and women have usually
had some rational motive for their conduct, which
may be discovered, if we look for it with our eyes
open.
Nobody has suffered more from bad translators
than Elizabeth. The circumstances of Queen
Elizabeth's birth, the traditions of her father, the
interests of England, and the sentiments of the
party who had sustained her claim to the succession,
obliged her on coming to the throne to renew the
ATTACK ON CADIZ 163
separation from the Papacy. The Church of Eng-
land was re-estabhshed on an Anglo-Cathohc basis,
which the rival factions might interpret each in
their own way. To allow more than one form of
pubhc worship would have led in the heated temper
of men's minds to quarrels and civil wars. But con-
science might be left free under outward conformity,
and those whom the Liturgy did not suit might
use their own ritual in their private houses.
EUzabeth and her wise advisers believed that if
her subjects could be kept from fighting and kill-
ing one another, and were not exasperated by out-
ward displays of difference, they would learn that
righteousness of life was more important than
orthodoxy, and to estimate at their real value the
rival dogmas of theology. Had time permitted
the experiment to have a fair trial, it would per-
haps have succeeded, but, unhappily for the Queen
and for England, the fire of controversy was still
too hot under the ashes. Protestants and Catholics
had been taught to look on one another as enemies
of God, and were still reluctant to take each other's
hands at the bidding of an Act of Parliament. The
more moderate of the Catholic laity saw no differ-
ence so great between the English service and the
Mass as to force them to desert the churches where
their fathers had worshipped for centuries. They
petitioned the Council of Trent for permission to
use the English Prayer Book ; and had the Council
consented, religious dissension would have dissolved
M '2
i64 ENGLISH SEAMEN
at last into an innocent difference of opinion.
But the Council and the Pope had determined that
there should be no compromise with heresy, and
the request was refused, though it was backed by
Philip's ambassador in London. The action of the
Papacy obliged the Queen to leave the Administra-
tion in the hands of Protestants, on whose loyalty
she could rely. As the struggle with the Reforma-
tion spread and deepened she was compelled to
assist indirectly the Protestant party in France
and Scotland. But she still adhered to her own
principle ; she refused to put herself at the head of
a Protestant League. She took no step without
keeping open a line of retreat on a contrary policy.
She had Catholics in her Privy Council who were
pensioners of Spain. She filled her household with
Catholics, and many a time drove Burghley dis-
tracted by listening to them at critical moments.
Her constant effort was to disarm the antagonism
of the adherents of the old beUef, by admitting
them to her confidence, and showing them that
one part of her subjects was as dear to her as
another.
For ten years she went on struggling. For ten
years she was proudly able to say that during all
that time no Catholic had suffered for his belief
either in purse or person. The advanced section
of the Catholic clergy was in despair. They saw
the consciences of their flocks benumbed and their
faith growing lukewarm. They stirred up the
ATTACK ON CADIZ 165
rebellion of the North. They persuaded Pius V.
to force them to a sense of their duties by declaring
Elizabeth excommunicated. They sent their mis-
sionaries through the EngUsh counties to recover
sheep that were straying, and teach the sin of sub-
mission to a sovereign whom the Pope had deposed.
Then had followed the Eidolfi plot, dehberately
encouraged by the Pope and Spain, which had
compelled the Government to tighten the reins.
One conspiracy had followed another. Any means
were held legitimate to rid the world of an enemy
of God. The Queen's character was murdered by
the foulest slanders, and a hundred daggers were
sharpened to murder her person. The King of
Spain had not advised the excommunication,
l)ecause he knew that he would be expected to
execute it, and he had other things to do. When
called on to act, he and Alva said that if the
English CathoUcs wanted Spanish help they must
do something for themselves. To do the priests
justice, they were brave enough. What they did,
and how far they had succeeded in making the
country disaffected. Father Parsons has told you
in the paper which I read to you in a former
lecture. Elizabeth refused to take care of herself.
She would show no distrust. She would not dismiss
the Catholic ladies and gentlemen from the house-
hold. She would allow no penal laws to be enforced
against Catholics as such. Kepeated conspiracies
to assassinate her were detected and exposed, but
i66 ENGLISH SEAMEN
she would take no warning. She would have no
bodyguard. The utmost that she would do was to
allow the Jesuits and seminary priests, who, by
Parsons's own acknowledgment were sowing rebel-
lion, to be banished the realm, and if they persisted
in remaining afterwards, to be treated as traitors.
When executions are treated as martyrdoms, candi-
dates wdll never be wanting for the crown of glory,
and the flame only burnt the hotter. Tyburn and
the quartering knife was a horrid business, and
Elizabeth sickened over it. She hated the severity
which she was compelled to exercise. Her name
was defiled \\dth the grossest calumnies. She knew
that she might be murdered any day. For herself
she was proudly indifEerent ; but her death would
and must be followed by a furious civil war. She
told the Privy Council one day after some stormy
scene, that she would come back afterwards and
amuse herself with seeing the Queen of Scots
making their heads fly.
Philip was weary of it too. He had enough to
do in ruling his own dominions without quarrelling
for ever with his sister-in-law. He had seen that
she had subjects, few or many, who, if he struck,
would strike back again. Enghsh money and
English volunteers were keeping ahve the war in
the Netherlands. English privateers had plundered
his gold ships, destroyed his commerce, and burnt
his West Indian cities — all this in the interests of
the Pope, who gave him fine words in plenty, but
J
ATTACK ON CADIZ 167
who, when called on for money to help in the
Enghsh conquest, only flung about his dinner
plates. The Duke of Alva, while he was alive, and
the Prince of Parma, who commanded in the
Netherlands in Alva's place, advised peace if peace
could be had on reasonable terms. If Ehzabeth
would consent to withdraw her help from the
Netherlands, and would allow the Enghsh Catholics
the tacit toleration with which her reign had begun,
they were of opinion, and Philip was of opinion too,
that it would be better to forgive Drake and St.
Domingo, abandon Mary Stuart and the seminary
priests, and meddle no more with Enghsh internal
politics.
Tired with a condition which was neither war
nor peace, tired with hanging traitors and the end-
less problem of her sister of Scotland, Elizabeth
saw no reason for refusing offers which would leave
her in peace for the rest of her own life. Phihp, it
was said, would restore the Mass in the churches in
Holland. She might stipulate for such liberty of
conscience to the Holland Protestants as she was
herself willing to allow the English Catholics. She
saw no reason why she should insist on a Uberty
of public worship which she had herself forbidden
at home. She did not s^e why the Hollanders
should be so precise about hearing Mass. She said
she would rather hear a thousand Masses herself
than have on her conscience the crimes committed
for the Mass or against it. She would not have her
i68 ENGLISH SEAMEN
realm in perpetual torment for Mr. Cecil's brothers
in Christ.
This was Ehzabeth's personal feeling. It could
not be openly avowed. The States might then
surrender to Philip in despair, and obtain better
securities for their political Hberties than she was
ready to ask for them. They might then join the
Spaniards and become her mortal enemies. But
she had a high opinion of her own statecraft. Her
Catholic friends assured her that, once at peace with
Philip, she would be safe from all the world. At
this moment accident revealed suddenly another
chasm which was opening unsuspected at her feet.
Both Phihp and she were really wishing for
peace. A treaty of peace between the Catholic
King and an excommunicated princess would end
the dream of a Catholic revolution in England. If
the English peers and gentry saw the censures of
the Church set aside so Hghtly by the most ortho-
dox prince in Europe, Parsons and his friends
would preach in vain to them the obUgation of
rebeUion. If this deadly negotiation was to be
broken off, a blow must be struck, and struck at
once. There was not a moment to be lost.
The enchanted prisoner at Tutbury was the
sleeping and waking dream of CathoHc chivalry.
The brave knight who would slay the dragon, de-
liver Mary Stuart, and place her on the usurper's
throne, would outdo Orlando or St. George, and be
sung of for ever as the noblest hero who had ever
M
ATTACK ON CADIZ 169
wielded brand or spear. Many a young British
heart had thrilled with hope that for him the enter-
prise was reserved. One of these was a certain
Anthony Babington, a gentleman of some fortune
in Derbyshire. A seminary priest named Ballard,
excited, like the rest, by the need of action, and
anxious to prevent the peace, fell in with this
Babington, and thought he had found the man for
his work. Elizabeth dead and Mary Stuart free,
there would be no more talk of peace. A plot was
easily formed. Half a dozen gentlemen, five of
them belonging to or connected with EUzabeth's
own household, were to shoot or stab her and
escape in the confusion ; Babington was to make a
dash on Mary Stuart's prison-house and carry her
off to some safe place ; while Ballard undertook to
raise the Catholic peers and have her proclaimed
queen. Elizabeth once removed, it was supposed
that they would not hesitate. Parma would bring
over the Spanish army from Dunkirk. The Pro-
testants would be paralysed. All would be begun
and ended in a few weeks or even days. The
Catholic religion would be re-established and the
hated heresy would be trampled out for ever. Mary
Stuart had been consulted and had enthusiasti-
cally agreed.
This interesting lady had been lately profuse in
her protestations of a desire for reconciliation with
her dearest sister. Elizabeth had almost believed
her sincere. Sick of the endless trouble with Mary
I70 ENGLISH SEAMEN
Stuart and her pretensions and schemings, she
had intended that the Scotch queen should be in-
cluded in the treaty with Philip, with an imphed
recognition of her right to succeed to the English
throne after EUzabeth's death. It had been neces-
sary, however, to ascertain in some way whether
her protestations were sincere. A secret watch had
been kept over her correspondence, and Babington's
letters and her own answers had fallen into Wal-
singham's hands. There it aU was in her own
cipher, the key to which had been betrayed by the
carelessness of a confederate. The six gentlemen
who were to have rewarded Elizabeth's confidence
by killing her were easily recognised. They were
seized, with Babington and BaUard, when they
imagined themselves on the eve of their triumph.
Babington flinched and confessed, and they were
all hanged. Mary Stuart herself had outworn com-
passion. Twice already on the discovery of her
earlier plots the House of Commons had petitioned
for her execution. For this last piece of treachery
she was tried at Fotheringay before a commission
of Peers and Privy Councillors. She denied her
letters, but her complicity was proved beyond a
doubt. Parliament was called, and a third time
insisted that the long drama should now be ended
and loyal England be allowed to breathe in peace.
Elizabeth signed the warrant. France, Spain, any
other power in the world would have long since
made an end of a competitor so desperate and so
- i .
ATTACK ON CADIZ 171
incurable. Tom by many feelings — natural pity,
dread of the world's opinion — Elizabeth paused
before ordering the warrant to be executed. K
nothing had been at stake but her own life, she
would have left the lady to weave fresh plots and
at last, perhaps, to succeed. If the nation's safety
required an end to be made with her, she felt it
hard that the duty should be thrown on herself.
Where were all those eager champions who had
signed the Association Bond, who had talked so
loudly ? Could none of them be found to recollect
their oaths and take the law into their own hands ?
Her Council, Burghley, and the rest, knowing
her disposition and feeUng that it was life or death
to English liberty, took the responsibility on them-
selves. They sent the warrant down to Fotheringay
at their own risk, leaving their mistress to deny, if
she pleased, that she had meant it to be executed ;
and the wild career of Mary Stuart ended on the
scaffold.
They knew what they were immediately doing.
They knew that if treason had a meaning Mary-
Stuart had brought her fate upon herself. They
did not, perhaps, reahse the full effects that were
to follow, or that with Mary Stuart had vanished
the last serious danger of a Catholic insurrection
in England; or perhaps they did realise it, and
this was what decided them to act.
I cannot dwell on this here. As long as there
was a Catholic princess of English blood to succeed
172 ENGLISH SEAMEN
to the throne, the allegiance of the Catholics to
Elizabeth had been easily shaken. If she was
spared now, every one of them would look on her
as their future sovereign. To overthrow Elizabeth
might mean the loss of national independence.
The Queen of Scots gone, they were paralysed by
divided counsels, and love of country proved
stronger than their creed.
What concerns us specially at present is the
effect on the King of Spain. The reluctance of
Philip to undertake the English enterprise (the
' empresa,' as it was generally called) had arisen
from a fear that when it was accomplished he
would lose the fruit of his labours. He could
never assure himself that if he placed Mary Stuart
on the throne she would not become eventually
French. He now learnt that she had bequeathed
to himself her claims on the EngHsh succession.
He had once been titular Ejng of England. He
had pretensions of his own, as in the descent from
Edward IH. The Jesuits, the Catholic enthusiasts
throughout Europe, assured him that if he would
now take up the cause in earnest, he might make
England a province of Spain. There were still
difficulties. He might hope that the English
Catholic laity would accept him, but he could not
be sure of it. He could not be sure that he would
have the support of the Pope. He continued, as
the Conde de Feria said scornfully of him, * meando
en vado,' a phrase which I cannot translate; it
ATTACK ON CADIZ 173
meant hesitating when he ought to act. But he
saw, or thought he saw, that he could now take a
stronger attitude towards Elizabeth as a claimant
to her throne. If the treaty of peace was to go
forward, he could raise his terms. He could insist
on the restoration of the Catholic religion in
England. The States of the Low Countries had
made over five of their strongest towns to Eliza-
beth as the price of her assistance. He could in-
sist on her restoring them, not to the States, but to
himself. Could she be brought to consent to such
an act of perfidy, Parma and he both felt that the
power would then be gone from her, as efifectually
as Samson's when his locks were clipped by the
harlot, and they could leave her then, if it suited
them, on a throne which would have become a
pillory — for the finger of scorn to point at.
With such a view before him it was more than
ever necessary for PhiUp to hurry forward the
preparations which he had already commenced.
The more formidable he could make himself, the
better able he would be to frighten Elizabeth into
submission.
Every dockyard in Spain was set to work,
building galleons and collecting stores. Santa
Cruz would command. Philip was himself more
resolved than ever to accompany the expedition in
person and dictate from the English Channel the
conditions of the pacification of Europe.
Secrecy was no longer attempted — indeed, was
174 ENGLISH SEAMEN
no longer possible. All Latin Christendom was
palpitating with expectation. At Lisbon, at Cadiz,
at Barcelona, at Naples, the shipwrights were busy
night and day. The sea was covered with vessels
freighted with arms and provisions streaming to
the mouth of the Tagus. CathoKc volunteers from
all nations flocked into the Peninsula, to take a
share in the mighty movement which was to decide
the fate of the world, and bishops, priests, and
monks were set praying through the whole Latin
Communion that Heaven would protect its own
cause.
Meantime the negotiations for peace continued,
and Elizabeth, strange to say, persisted in listening.
She would not see what was plain to all the world
besides. The execution of the Queen of Scots lay
on her spirit and threw her back into the obstinate
humour which had made Walsingham so often
despair of her safety. For two months after that
scene at Fotheringay she had refused to see Burgh-
ley, and would consult no one but Sir James Crofts
and her Spanish-tempered ladies. She knew that
Spain now intended that she should betray the
towns in the Low Countries, yet she was blind to
the infamy which it would bring upon her. She
left her troops there without their wages to shiver
into mutiny. She named commissioners, with Sir
James Crofts at their head, to go to Ostend and
treat with Parma, and if she had not resolved on
an act of treachery she at least played with the
ATTACK ON CADIZ 175
temptation, and persuaded herself that if she chose
to make over the towns to Philip, she would be
only restoring them to their lawful owner.
Burghley and Walsingham, you can see from
their letters, believed now that Ehzabeth had
ruined herself at last. Happily her moods were
variable as the weather. She was forced to see
the condition to which she had reduced her affairs
in the Low Countries by the appearance of a number
of starving wretches who had deserted from the
garrisons there and had come across to clamour for
their pay at her own palace gates. If she had no
troops in the field but a mutinous and starving
rabble, she might get no terms at all. It might
be well to show Philip that on one element at least
she could still be dangerous. She had lost nothing
by the bold actions of Drake and the privateers.
With half a heart she allowed Drake to fit them
out again, take the Btionaventura, a ship of her
own, to carry his flag, and go down to the coast of
Spain and see what was going on. He was not
to do too much. She sent a vice-admiral with
him, in the Lioriy to be a check on over-audacity.
Drake knew how to deal with embarrassing vice-
admirals. His own adventurers would sail, if he
ordered, to the Mountains of the Moon, and be
quite certain that it was the right place to go to.
Once under way and on the blue water he would
go his own course and run his own risks. Cadiz
Harbour was thronged with transports, provision
176 ENGLISH SEAMEN
ships, powder vessels — a hundred sail of them —
many of a thousand tons and over, loading with
stores for the Armada. There were thirty sail of
adventurers, the smartest ships afloat on the ocean,
and sailed by the smartest seamen that ever han-
dled rope or tiller. Something might be done at
Cadiz if he did not say too much about it. The
leave had been given to him to go, but he knew by
experience, and Burghley again warned him, that
it might, and probably would, be revoked if he
waited too long. The moment was his own, and he
used it. He was but just in time. Before his sails
were under the horizon a courier galloped into Ply-
mouth with orders that under no condition was he
to enter port or haven of the King of Spain, or in-
jure Spanish subjects. What else was he going
out for ? He had guessed how it would be. Comedy
or earnest he could not tell. If earnest, some such
order would be sent after him, and he had not an
instant to lose.
He sailed on the morning of the 12th of April.
Off Ushant he fell in with a north-west gale, and
he flew on, spreading every stitch of canvas which
his spars would bear. In five days he was at Cape
St. Vincent. On the 18th he had the white houses
of Cadiz right in front of him, and could see for
himself the forests of masts from the ships and
transports with which the harbour was choked.
Here was a chance for a piece of service if there
was courage for the venture. He signalled for his
X
ATTACK ON CADIZ 177
officers to come on board the Buonaventura.
There before their eyes was, if not the Armada itself,
the materials which were to fit the Armada for the
seas. Did they dare to go in with him and destroy
them ? There were batteries at the harbour mouth,
but Drake's mariners had faced Spanish batteries
at St. Domingo and Carthagena and had not
found them very formidable. Go in ? Of course
they would. Where Drake would lead the corsairs
of Plymouth were never afraid to follow. The
vice-admiral pleaded danger to her Majesty's ships.
It was not the business of an English fleet to be
particular about danger. Straight in they went
with a fair wind and a flood tide, ran past the
batteries and under a storm of shot, to which they
did not trouble themselves to wait to reply. The
poor vice-admiral followed reluctantly in the Lion.
A single shot hit the Lioji^ and he edged away
out of range, anchored, and drifted to sea again
with the ebb. But Drake and all the rest dashed
on, sank the guardship — a large galleon — and sent
flying a fleet of galleys which ventured too near
them and were never seen again.
Further resistance there was none — absolutely
none. The crews of the store ships escaped in
their boats to land. The governor of Cadiz, the
same Duke of Medina Sidonia who the next year
was to gain a disastrous immortality, fled * like a tall
gentleman ' to raise troops and prevent Drake from
landing. Drake had no intention of landing. At
N
1/8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
his extreme leisure he took possession of the
Spanish shipping, searched every vessel, and carried
oflE everything that he could use. He detained as
prisoners the few men that he found on board, and
then, after doing his work deliberately and com-
pletely, he set the hulls on fire, cut the cables, and
left them to drive on the rising tide under the
walls of the town — a confused mass of blazing ruin-
On the 12th of April he had sailed from Plymouth ;
on the 19th he entered Cadiz harbour ; on the 1st of
May he passed out again without the loss of a boat
or a man. He said in jest that he had singed the
King of Spain's beard for him. In sober prose he
had done the King of Spain an amount of damage
which a million ducats and a year's labour would
imperfectly replace. The daring rapidity of the
enterprise astonished Spain, and astonished Europe
more than the storm of the West Indian towns.
The English had long teeth, as Santa Cruz had
told Philip's council, and the teeth would need
drawdng before Mass would be heard again at
Westminster. The Spaniards were a gaUant race,
and a dashing exploit, though at their own expense,
could be admired by the countrymen of Cervantes.
' So praised,' we read, ' was Drake for his valour
among them that they said if he was not a Lutheran
there would not be the like of him in the world.'
A Court lady was invited by the King to join a
party on a lake near Madrid. The lady rephed
that she dared not trust herself on the water with
ATTACK ON CADIZ 179
his Majesty lest Sir Francis Drake should have
her.
Drake might well be praised. But Drake
would have been the first to divide the honour with
the comrades who were his arm and hand. Great
admirals and generals do not win their battles
single-handed like the heroes of romance. Orders
avail only when there are men to execute them.
Not a captain, not an oflScer who served under
Drake, ever flinched or blundered. Never was
such a school for seamen as that twenty years'
privateering war between the servants of the Pope
and the West-country Protestant adventurers.
Those too must be remembered who built and
rigged the ships in which they sailed and fought
their battles. We may depend upon it that there
was no dishonesty in contractors, no scamping of
the work in the yards where the Plymouth rovers
were fitted out for sea. Their hearts were in it ;
they were soldiers of a common cause.
Three weeks had suflSced for Cadiz. No order
for recall had yet arrived. Drake had other plans
before him, and the men were in high spirits and
ready for anything. A fleet of Spanish men-of-war
was expected round from the Mediterranean. He
proposed to stay for a week or two in the neigh-
bourhood of the Straits, in the hope of falling in
with them. He wanted fresh water, too, and had
to find it somewhere.
Before leaving Cadiz Eoads he had to decide
N 2
i8o en(;lish seamen
what to do with his prisoners. Many English
were known to be in the hands of the Holy Office
working in irons as galley slaves. He sent in a
pinnace to propose an exchange, and had to wait
some days for an answer. At length, after a refer-
ence to Lisbon, the Spanish authorities rephed
that they had no English prisoners. If this was
true those they had must have died of barbarous
usage; and after a consultation with his officers
Sir Francis sent in word that for the future such
prisoners as they might take would be sold to the
Moors, and the money applied to the redemption
of English captives in other parts of the world.
Water was the next point. There were springs
at Faro, with a Spanish force stationed there to
guard them. Force or no force, water was to be
had. The boats were sent on shore. The boats'
crews stormed the forts and filled the casks. The
vice-admiral again lifted up his voice. The Queen
had ordered that there was to be no landing on
Spanish soil. At Cadiz the order had been ob-
•served. There had been no need to land. Here
ut Faro there had been direct defiance of her
Majesty's command. He became so loud in his
<5lamours that Drake found it necessary to lock
him up in his own cabin, and at length to send him
home with his ship to complain. For himself, as
the expected fleet from the Straits did not appear,
and as he had shaken ofiE his troublesome second
in command, he proceeded leisurely up the coast,
ATTACK ON CADIZ i8t
intending to look in at Lisbon and see for himself
how things were going on there. All along as he
went he fell in with traders loaded with suppUes
for the use of the Armada. All these he destroyed
as he advanced, and at length found himself under
the purple hills of Cintra and looking up into the
Tagus. There lay gathered together the strength
of the fighting naval force of Spain — ^fifty great
galleons, already arrived, the largest warships
^vhich then floated on the ocean. Santa Cruz,
the best officer in the Spanish navy, was himself
in the town and in command. To venture a
repetition of the Cadiz exploit in the face of such
odds seemed too desperate even for Drake, but it
was one of those occasions when the genius of a
great commander sees more than ordinary eyes.
He calculated, and, as was proved afterwards,
calculated rightly, that the galleons would be half
manned, or not manned at all, and crowded with
landsmen bringing on board the stores. Theit
sides as they lay would be choked with hulks and
lighters. They would be unable to get their
anchors up, set their canvas, or stir from their
moorings. Daring as Drake was known to be, no
one would expect him to go with so small a force
into the enemy's stronghold, and there would be
no preparations to meet him. He could count
upon the tides. The winds at that season of the
year were fresh and steady, and could be counted
on also to take him in or out ; there was sea room
182 ENGLISH SEAMEN
in the river for such vessels as the adventurers' to
manoeuvre and to retreat if overmatched. Rash as
fiuch an enterprise might seem to an unprofessional
eye, Drake certainly thought of it, perhaps had
meant to try it in some form or other and so make
an end of the Spanish invasion of England. He
could not venture without asking first for his
mistress's permission. He knew her nature. He
knew that his services at Cadiz would outweigh
his disregard of her orders, and that so far he had
nothing to fear ; but he knew also that she was still
hankering after peace, and that without her leave
he must do nothing to make peace impossible.
There is a letter from him to the Queen, written
when he was lying ofiE Lisbon, very characteristic
of the time and the man.
Nelson or Lord St. Vincent did not talk much of
expecting supernatural assistance. If they had we
should suspect them of using language conven-
tionally which they would have done better to .
leave alone. Sir Francis Drake, like his other
great contemporaries, beheved that he was engaged
in a holy cause, and was not afraid or ashamed to
say so. His object was to protest against a recall
in the flow of victory. The Spaniards, he said,
were but mortal men. They were enemies of thei
Truth, upholders of Dagon's image, which had
fallen in other days before the Ark, and would fall
again if boldly defied. So long as he had ships
that would float, and there was food on board them
.j^jj
ATTACK ON CADIZ 183
for the men to eat, he entreated her to let him stay
and strike whenever a chance was offered him.
The continuing to the end yielded the true glory.
When men were serving religion and their country,
a merciful God, it was hkely, would give them vic-
tory, and Satan and his angels should not prevail.
All in good time. Another year and Drake
would have the chance he wanted. For the
moment Satan had prevailed — Satan in the shape
of Elizabeth's Catholic advisers. Her answer
came. It was warm and generous. She did not,
could not, blame him for what he had done so
far, but she desired him to provoke the King of
Spain no further. The negotiations for peace had
opened, and must not be interfered with.
This prohibition from the Queen prevented,
perhaps, what would have been the most remark-
able exploit in English naval history. As matters
stood it would have been perfectly possible for
Drake to have gone into the Tagus, and if he could
not have burnt the galleons he could certainly
have come away unhurt. He had guessed their
condition with entire correctness. The ships were
there, but the ships' companies were not on board
them. Santa Cruz himself admitted that if Drake
had gone in he could have himself done nothing
' por falta de gente ' (for want of men). And Drake
undoubtedly would have gone, and would have
done something with which all the world would
have rung, but for the positive command of his
i84 ENGLISH SEAMEN
mistress. He lingered in the roads at Cintra,
hoping that Santa Cruz would come out and meet
him. All Spain was clamouring at Santa Cruz's
inaction. Philip wrote to stir the old admiral to
energy. He must not allow himself to be defied
by a squadron of insolent rovers. He must chase
them off the coast or destroy them. Santa Cruz
needed no stirring. Santa Cruz, the hero of a
hundred fights, was chafing at his own impotence ;
but he was obliged to tell his master that if he
wished to have service out of his galleons he must
provide crews to handle them, and they must rot
at their anchors till he did. He told him, more-
over, that it was time for him to exert himself
in earnest. If he waited much longer, England
would have grown too strong for him to deal with.
In strict obedience Drake ought now to have
gone home, but the campaign had brought so far
more glory than prize money. His comrades
required some consolation for their disappointment
at Lisbon. The theory of these armaments of
the adventurers was that the cost should be paid
somehow by the enemy, and he could be assured
that if he brought back a prize or two in which
she could claim a share the Queen would not call
him to a very strict account. Homeward-bound
galleons or merchantmen were to be met with
occasionally at the Azores. On leaving Lisbon
Drake headed away to St. Michael's, and his lucky
star was still in the ascendant.
ATTACK ON CADIZ 185
As if sent on purpose for him, the San Philip^
a magnificent caraque from the Indies, fell straight
into his hands, ' so richly loaded,' it was said, ^ that
every man in the fleet counted his fortune made.'
There was no need to wait for more. It was but
two months since Drake had sailed from Plymouth.
He could now go home after a cruise of which the
history of his own or any other country had never
presented the like. He had struck the King of
Spain in his owti stronghold. He had disabled
the intended Armada for one season at least. He
had picked up a prize by the way and as if by
accident, worth half a million, to pay his expenses,
so that he had cost nothing to his mistress, and
had brought back a handsome present for her. I
doubt if such a naval estimate was ever presented
to an English House of Commons. Above all he
had taught the self-confident Spaniard to be afraid
of him, and he carried back his poor comrades in
such a glow of triumph that they would have
fought Satan and all his angels with Drake at
their head.
Our West-country annals still tell how the
country people streamed down in their best clothes
to see the great San Philip towed into Dart-
mouth Harbour. English Protestantism was no
bad cable for the nation to ride by in those stormy
times, and deserves to be honourably remembered
in a School of History at an English University.
i86 ENGLISH SEAMEN
LECTUEE VIII
SAILING OF THE ARMADA
Peace or war between Spain and England, that
was now the question, with a prospect of securing
the English succession for himself or one of his
daughters. With the whole Spanish nation smart-
ing under the indignity of the burning of the ships
at Cadiz, Philip's warlike ardour had warmed into
something like fire. He had resolved at any rate,
if he was to forgive his sister-in-law at all, to insist
on more than toleration for the Cathohcs in Eng-
land. He did not contemplate as even possible
that the English privateers, however bold or dex-
terous, could resist such an armament as he was
preparing to lead to the Channel. The Eoyal
Navy, he knew very weU, did not exceed twenty-
five ships of all sorts and sizes. The adventurers
might be equal to sudden daring actions, but would
and must be crushed by such a fleet as was being
fitted out at Lisbon. He therefore, for himself,
meant to demand that the Catholic religion should
be restored to its complete and exclusive superiority,
and certain towns in England were to be made
over to be garrisoned by Spanish troops as securities
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 187
for Elizabeth's good behaviour. As often happens
with irresolute men, when they have once been
forced to a decision they are as too hasty as before
they were too slow. After Drake had retired from
Lisbon the King of Spain sent orders to the Prince
of Parma not to wait for the arrival of the Armada,
but to cross the Channel immediately with the
Flanders army, and bring Elizabeth to her knees.
Parma had more sense than his master. He repre-
sented that he could not cross without a fleet to
cover his passage. His transport barges would
only float in smooth water, and whether the water
was smooth or rough they could be sent to the
bottom by half a dozen English cruisers from the
Thames. Supposing him to have landed, either in
Thanet or other spot, he reminded Phihp that he
could not have at most more than 25,000 men with
him. The English mihtia were in training. The
Jesuits said they were disaffected, but the Jesuits
might be making a mistake. He might have to
fight more than one battle. He would have to
leave detachments as he advanced to London, to
cover his communications, and a reverse would be
fatal. He would obey if his Majesty persisted, but
he recommended Philip to continue to amuse the
English with the treaty till the Armada was ready,
and, in evident consciousness that the enterprise
would be harder than PhiUp imagined, he even
gave it as his own opinion still (notwithstanding
Cadiz), that if Elizabeth would surrender the
i88 ENGLISH SEAMEN
cautionary towns in Flanders to Spain, and would
f^rant the English Catholics a fair degree of liberty,
it would be Philip's interest to make peace at once
without stipulating for further terms. He could
make a new war if he wished at a future time, when
circumstances might be more convenient and the
Netherlands revolt subdued.
To such conditions as these it seemed that
Elizabeth was inclining to consent. The towns
had been trusted to her keeping by the Nether-
landers. To give them up to the enemy to make
better conditions for herself would be an infamy so
great as to have disgraced Elizabeth for ever ; yet
she would not see it. She said the towns belonged
to Philip and she would only be restoring his own
to him. Burghley bade her, if she wanted peace,
send back Drake to the Azores and frighten Philip
for his gold ships. She was in one of her ungovern-
able moods. Instead of sending out Drake again
she ordered her own fleet to be dismantled and laid
up at Chatham, and she condescended to apologise
to Parma for the burning of the transports at Cadiz
as done against her orders.
This was in December 1587, only five months
before the Armada sailed from Lisbon. Never had
she brought herself and her country so near ruin.
The entire safety of England rested at that mo-
ment on the adventurers, and on the adventurers
alone.
Meanwhile, with enormous effort the destruction
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 189
at Cadiz had been repaired. The great fleet was
pushed on, and in February Santa Cruz reported
himself almost ready. Santa Cruz and Philip,
however, were not in agreement as to what should
be done. Santa Cruz was a fighting admiral,
Philip was not a fighting king. He changed his
mind as often as Ehzabeth. Hot fits varied with
cold. His last news from England led him to hope
that fighting would not be wanted. The Commis-
sioners were sitting at Ostend. On one side there
were the formal negotiations, in which the surrender
of the towns was not yet treated as an open ques-
tion. Had the States been aware that Ehzabeth
was even in thought entertaining it, they would
have made terms instantly on their own account
and left her alone in the cold. Besides this, there
was a second negotiation underneath, carried on by
private agents, in which the surrender was to be
the special condition. These complicated schem-
ings Parma purposely protracted, to keep Ehzabeth
in false security. She had not dehberately intended
to give up the towns. At the last moment she
would have probably refused, unless the States
themselves consented to it as part of a general
settlement. But she was playing with the idea.
The States, she thought, were too obstinate. Peace
would be good for them, and she said she might do
them good if she pleased, whether they liked it or
not.
Parma was content that she should amuse her-
I90 ENGLISH SEAMEN
self with words and neglect her defences by sea and
land. By the end of February Santa Cruz was
ready. A northerly wind blows strong down the
coast of Portugal in the spring months, and he
meant to be oflE before it set in, before the end of
March at latest. Unfortunately for Spain, Santa
Cruz fell ill at the last moment — ill, it was said,
with anxiety. Santa Cruz knew well enough what
Philip would not know — that the expedition would
be no holiday parade. He had reason enough to
be anxious if Philip was to accompany him and tie
his hands and embarrass him. Any way, Santa
Cruz died after a few days' illness. The sailing
had to be suspended till a new commander could
be decided on, and in the choice which Philip
made he gave a curious proof of what he intended
the expedition to do. He did not really expect or
wish for any serious fighting. He wanted to be
sovereign of England again, with the assent of the
English Catholics. He did not mean, if he could
help it, to irritate the national pride by force and
conquest. While Santa Cruz lived, Spanish public
opinion would not allow him to be passed over.
Santa Cruz must command, and Philip had resolved
to go with him, to prevent too violent proceedings.
Santa Cruz dead, he could find someone who would
do what he was told, and his own presence would
no longer be necessary.
The Duke of Medina Sidonia, named El Bueno,
or the Good, was a grandee of highest rank. He
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 191
was enormously rich, fond of hunting and shooting,
a tolerable rider, for the rest a harmless creature
getting on to forty, conscious of his defects, but
not aware that so great a prince had any need to
mend them ; without vanity, without ambition, and
most happy when lounging in his orange gardens at
San Lucan. Of active service he had seen none.
He was Captain-General of Andalusia, and had run
away from Cadiz when Drake came into the har-
bour ; but that was all. To his astonishment and
to his dismay he learnt that it was on him that the
choice had fallen to be the Lord High Admiral of
Spain and commander of the so much talked of
expedition to England. He protested his unfitness.
He said that he was no seaman; that he knew
nothing of fighting by sea or land ; that if he ven-
tured out in a boat he was always sick ; that he
had never seen the English Channel ; and that, as
to politics, he neither knew anything nor cared
anything about them. In short, he had not one
quaHfication which such a post required.
Philip liked his modesty ; but in fact the Duke's
defects were his recommendations. He would obey
his instructions, would not fight unless it was
necessary, and would go into no rash adventures.
All that Philip wanted him to do was to find the
Prince of Parma, and act as Parma should bid him.
As to seamanship, he would have the best officers
in the navy under him ; and for a second in com-
mand he should have Don Diego de Valdez, a
192 ENGLISH SEAMEN
cautious, sileut, sullen old sailor, a man after
Philip's own heart.
Doubting, hesitating, the Duke repaired to
Lisbon. There he was put in better heart by a
nun, who said Our Lady had sent her to promise
him success. Every part of the service was new
to him. He was a fussy, anxious little man; set
himself to inquke into everything, to meddle with
things which he could not understand and had
better have left alone. He ought to have left
details to the responsible heads of departments.
He fancied that in a week or two he could look
himself into everything. There were 130 ships,
8,000 seamen, 19,000 Spanish infantry, with gen-
tlemen volunteers, officers, priests, surgeons, galley
slaves — at least 3,000 more — provisioned for six
months. Then there were the ships' stores, arms
small and great, powder, spars, cordage, canvas,
and such other million necessities as ships on ser-
vice need. The whole of this the poor Duke took
on himself to examine into, and, as he could not
understand what he saw, and knew not what to
look at, nothing was examined into at all. Every-
one's mind was, in fact, so much absorbed by the
spiritual side of the thing that they could not
attend to vulgar commonplaces. Don Quixote,
when he set out on his expedition, and forgot
money and a change of linen, was not in a state
of wilder exaltation than Catholic Europe at the
sailing of the Annada. Every noble family in
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 193
Spain had sent one or other of its sons to fight for
Christ and Our Lady.
For three years the stream of prayer had been
ascending from church, cathedral, or oratory. The
King had emptied his treasury. The hidalgo and
the tradesman had offered their contributions. The
crusade against the Crescent itself had not kindled
a more intense or more sacred enthusiasm. All
pains were taken to make the expedition spiritually
worthy of its purpose. No impure thing, specially
no impure woman, was to approach the yards or
ships. Swearing, quarrelling, gambUng, were prohi-
bited under terrible penalties. The galleons were
named after the apostles and saints to whose charge
they were committed, and every seaman and soldier
confessed and communicated on going on board.
The shipboys at sunrise were to sing their Buenos
Dias at the foot of the mainmast, and their Ave
Maria as the sun sank into the ocean. On the
Imperial banner were embroidered the figures of
Christ and His Mother, and as a motto the haughty
' Plus Ultra ' of Charles V. was replaced with the
more pious aspiration, * Exsurge, Deus, et vindica
causam tuam.'
Nothing could be better if the more vulgar
necessities had been looked to equally well. Un-
luckily, Medina Sidonia had taken the inspection of
these on himself, and Medina Sidonia was unable
to correct the information which any rascal chose
to give him.
194 ENGLISH SEAMEN
At length, at the end of April, he reported him-
self satisfied. The banner was blessed in the
cathedral, men and stores all on board, and the
Invincible Armada prepared to go upon its way.
No wonder Philip was confident. A hmidred and
thirty galleons, from 1,300 to 700 tons, 30,000 fight-
ing men, besides slaves and servants, made up a
force which the world might well think invincible.
The guns were the weakest part. There were twice
as many as the English; but they were for the
most part nine and six pounders, and with but
fifty rounds to each. The Spaniards had done
their sea fighting hitherto at close range, grappling
and trusting to musketry. They were to receive a
lesson about this before the summer was over.
But Philip himself meanwhile expected evidently
that he would meet with no opposition. Of priests
he had provided 180; of surgeons and surgeons'
assistants eighty-five only for the whole fleet.
In the middle of May he sent down his last
orders. The Duke was not to seek a battle. If he
fell in Avith Drake he was to take no notice of him, but
thank God, as Dogberry said to the watchman,
that he was rid of a knave. He was to go straight
to the North Foreland, there anchor and communi-
cate \\4th Parma. The experienced admirals who
had learnt their trade under Santa Cruz — Martinez
de Eecalde, Pedro de Valdez, Miguel de Oquendo
— strongly urged the securing Plymouth or the
Isle of Wight on their way up Channel. This had
-.«»■.* J.
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 195
evidently been Santa Cruz's own design, and the
only rational one to have followed. Philip did not
see it. He did not believe it would prove neces-
sary ; but as to this and as to fighting he left them,
as he knew he must do, a certain discretion.
The Duke then, flying the sacred banner on
the San Martin, dropped down the Tagus on the
14th of May, followed by the whole fleet. The
San Martin had been double-timbered with oak,
to keep the shot out. He liked his business no
better. In vain he repeated to himself that it was
G-od's cause. God would see they came to no harm.
He was no sooner in the open sea than he found
no cause, however holy, saved men from the conse-
quences of their own blunders. They were late out,
and met the north trade wind, as Santa Cruz had
foretold.
They drifted to leeward day by day till they had
dropped down to Cape St. Vincent. Infinite pains
had been taken with the spiritual state of every one
on board. The carelessness or roguery of contrac-
tors and purveyors had not been thought of. The
water had been taken in three months before. It
was found foul and stinking. The salt beef, the
salt pork, and fish were putrid, the bread full of
maggots and cockroaches. Cask was opened after
cask. It was the same story everywhere. They
had to be all thrown overboard. In the whole fleet
there was not a sound morsel of food but biscuit
and dried fruit. The men went down in hundreds
2
196 ENGLISH SEAMEN
with dysentery. The Duke bewailed his fate as
innocently as Sancho Panza. He hoped God would
help. He had wished no harm to anybody. He
had left his home and his family to please the King,
and he trusted the King would remember it. He
wrote piteously for fresh stores, if the King would
not have them all perish. The admirals said they
could go no further without fresh water. All was
dismay and confusion. The wind at last fell round
south, and they made Finisterre. It then came on
to blow, and they were scattered. The Duke with
half the fleet crawled into Corunna, the crews
scarce able to man the yards and trying to desert
in shoals.
The missing ships dropped in one by one, but a
week passed and a third of them were still absent.
Another despairing letter went oflE from the Duke
to his master. He said that he concluded from
their misfortunes that God disapproved of the
expedition, and that it had better be abandoned.
Diego Florez was of the same opinion. The stores
were worthless, he said. The men were sick and
out of heart. Nothing could be done that season.
It was not by flinching at the first sight of
difficulty that the Spaniards had become masters
of half the world. The old comrades of Santa
Cruz saw nothing in what had befallen them be-
yond a common accident of sea Ufe. To abandon
at the first check an enterprise undertaken with so
much pretence, they said, would be cowardly and
■L..LwJ.J
S-iUZ^i^ Z^ 'THU xJjc^^iA
were ont oS -sarrrr^ F^e^ zrifaci tjit ti?a»fl ciroild be
taken on bcsir^ frrcL Canznau ISieT -eroi^ sett cap
a shore hos^iiiaiZ irr 12k- si^ Tbe adbyss ma»
not dangTETC'ii^ l^^ert iac iibhl ho deisiss. A
little enasT ^uiifl aZ TFaiiifi tie "inell lueam. Pedio
de Yaldez desx«a.c-i>rid * rainier it^ KsHro w entaneat
him not to ii5:t»er ^C' lihe 3>::iT-"'5^ er^aiimirsu
retnmed a speedr -suiiiFw^e? vJ frn f like Duie not to
be frightened ^a ^bfido-rs.
There was nn gr i ^Ti -r. in feet, resallv to be alarmed
at. Fresh waiter t.oci awax liie dv5«giterr. Fiesh
• « «
food was bronsht in frc35n the eoimtrr. Galieian
seamen filled the ^ap? made by the deserters. The
ships were laid on shore and scraped and tallowed.
Tents were pitched on an island in the harbour^
with altars and priests, and eveiyone confessed
again and received the Sacrament. ' This/ wrote
the Ihike, ' is great riches and a precious jewel,
and all now are well content and cheerful.* The
scattered flock had reassembled. Damages were
all repaired, and the only harm had been loss of
time. Once more, on the 23rd of July, the Armada
in full numbers was under way for England and
streaming across the Bay of Biscay with a fair
wind for the mouth of the Channel.
Leaving the Duke for the moment, we must
now glance at the preparations made in England
to receive him. It might almost be said that
there were none at all. The winter months had
198 ENGLISH SEAMEN
been wild and changeable, but not so wild and not
so fluctuating as the mind of England's mistress.
In December her fleet had been paid ofiE at Chat-
ham. The danger of leaving the country without
any regular defence was pressed on her so vehe-
mently that she consented to allow part of the
ships to be recommissioned. The Revenge was
given to Drake. He and Howard, the Lord
Admiral, were to have gone with a mixed squadron
from the Eoyal Navy and the adventurers down to
the Spanish coast. In every loyal subject there
had long been but one opinion, that a good open
war w^as the only road to an honourable peace.
The open war, they now trusted, was come at last.
But the hope was raised only to be disappointed.
With the news of Santa Cruz's death came a report
which Elizabeth greedily believed, that the Armada
.was dissolving and was not coming at all. Sir
James Crofts sang the usual song that Drake and
Howard wanted war, because war was their trade.
She recalled her orders. She said that she was
assured of peace in six weeks, and that beyond that
time the services of the fleet would not be required.
Half the men engaged were to be dismissed at
once to save their pay. Drake and Lord Henry
Seymour might cruise with four or five of the
Queen's ships between Plymouth and the Solent.
Lord Howard was to remain in the Thames with
the rest. I know not whether swearing was
interdicted in the English navy as well as in the
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 199
Spanish, but I will answer for it that Howard did
not spare his language when this missive reached
him. ' Never/ he said, ' since England was England
was such a stratagem made to deceive us as this
treaty. We have not hands left to carry the ships
back to Chatham. We are hke bears tied to a
stake ; the Spaniards may come to worry us hke
dogs, and we cannot hurt them.'
It was well for England that she had other
defenders than the wildly managed navy of the
Queen. Historians tell us how the gentlemen of
the coast came out in their own vessels to meet
the invaders. Come they did, but who were they ?
Ships that could fight the Spanish galleons were
not made in a day or a week. They were built
already. They were manned by loyal subjects,
the business of whose lives had been to meet the
enemies of their land and faith on the wide ocean —
not by those who had been watching with divided
hearts for a Cathohc revolution.
March went by, and sure inteUigence came
that the Armada was not dissolving. Again Drake
prayed the Queen to let him take the Revenge
and the Western adventurers down to Lisbon ; but
the commissioners wrote full of hope from Ostend,
and Elizabeth was afraid ' the King of Spain might
take it ill.' She found fault with Drake's expenses.
She charged him with wasting her ammunition
in target practice. She had it doled out to him in
driblets, and allowed no more than would serve for
2<» ENGLISH SEAMEN
a day and a half's service. She kept a sharp hand
on the victualling houses. April went, and her
four finest ships — the Trivmphy the Victory, the
Elizabeth Jonas, and the Bear — ^were still with
sails unbent, ' keeping Chatham church.' She said
they would not be wanted and it would be waste of
money to refit them. Again she was forced to
yield at last, and the four ships were got to sea in
time, the workmen in the yards making up for the
delay; but she had few enough when her whole
fleet was out upon the Channel, and but for the
privateers there would have been an ill reckoning
when the trial came. The Armada was coming
now. There was no longer a doubt of it. Lord
Henry Seymour was left with five Queen's ships
and thirty London adventurers to watch Parma
and the Narrow Seas. Howard, calrying his own
flag in the Arh Baleigh, joined Drake at Plymouth
with seventeen others.
Still the numbing hand of his mistress pur-
sued him. Food supplies had been issued to the
middle of June, and no more was to be allowed.
The weather was desperate — wildest smnmer ever
known. The south-west gales brought the Atlantic
rollers into the Sound. Drake lay inside, perhaps
behind the island which bears his name. Howard
rode out the gales under Mount Edgecumbe, the
days going by and the provisions wasting. The
rations were cut down to make the stores last
longer. Owing to the many changes the crews had
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 201
been hastily raised. They were ill-clothed, ill-pro-
vided every way, but they complained of nothing,
caught fish to mend their mess dinners, and prayed
only for the speedy coming of the enemy. Even
Howard's heart failed him now. English sailors
would do what could be done by man, but they
could not fight with famine. ^ Awake, Madam,' he
wrote to the Queen, ^ awake, for the love of Christ,
and see the villainous treasons round about you.*
He goaded her into ordering supplies for one more
month, but this was to be positively the last. The
victuallers inquired if they should make further
preparations. She answered peremptorily, ' No ' ;
and again the weeks ran on. The contractors, it
seemed, had caught her spirit, for the beer which
had been furnished for the fleet turned sour, and
those who dr^nk it sickened. The officers, on their
own responsibility, ordered wine and arrowroot for
the sick out of Plymouth, to be called to a sharp
account when all was over. Again the rations
were reduced. Four weeks' allowance was stretched
to serve for six, and still the Spaniards did not
come. So England's forlorn hope was treated at the
crisis of her destiny. The preparations on land
were scarcely better. The militia had been called
out. A hundred thousand men had given their
names, and the stations had been arranged where
they were to assemble if the enemy attempted a
landing. But there were no reserves, no magazines
of arms, no stores or tents, no requisites for an army
202 ENGLISH SEAMEN
save the men themselves and what local resources
could furnish. For a general the Queen had
chosen the Earl of Leicester, who might have the
merit of fidelity to herself, but otherwise was the
worst fitted that she could have found in her whole
dominions ; and the Prince of Parma was coming,
if he came at all, at the head of the best-provided
and best-disciplined troops in Europe. The hope
of England at that moment was in her patient
suffering sailors at Plymouth. Each morning they
looked out passionately for the Spanish sails.
Time was a w^orse enemy than the galleons. The
six weeks would be soon gone, and the Queen's
ships must then leave the seas if the crews were
not to starve. Drake had certain news that the
Armada had sailed. Where was it ? Once he
dashed out as far as Ushant, but turned back, lest
it should pass him in the night and find Plymouth
undefended; and smaller grew the messes and
leaner and paler the seamen's faces. Still not a
man murmured or gave in. They had no leisure
to be sick.
The last week of July had now come. There
were half-rations for one week more, and powder
for two days' fighting. That was all. On so light
a thread such mighty issues were now depending.
On Friday, the 23rd, the Armada had started for
the second time, the numbers undiminished ; reli-
gious fervour burning again, and heart and hope
high as ever. Saturday, Sunday, and Monday they
i^at^JrJ.
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 203
sailed on with a smooth sea and soft south winds,
and on Monday night the Duke found himself at
the Channel mouth with all his flock about him.
Tuesday morning the wind shifted to the north,
then backed to the west, and blew hard. The sea
got up, broke into the stem galleries of the galleons,
and sent the galleys looking for shelter in French
harbours. The fleet hove to for a couple of days,
till the weather mended. On Friday afternoon
they sighted the Lizard and formed into fighting
order ; the Duke in the centre, Alonzo de Leyva
leading in a vessel of his own called the Bata
Coronada, Don Martin de Eecalde covering the
rear. The entire line stretched to about seven
miles.
The sacred banner was run up to the masthead
of the San Martin. Each ship saluted with all
her guns, and every man — officer, noble, seaman,
or slave — knelt on the decks at a given signal to
commend themselves to Mary and her Son. We
shall miss the meaning of this high epic story if we
do not realise that both sides had the most profound
conviction that they were fighting the battle of the
Almighty. Two principles, freedom and authority,
were contending for the guidance of mankind.
In the evening the Duke sent oflE two fast fly-boats
to Parma to announce his arrival in the Channel,
with another reporting progress to Philip, and say-
ing that till he heard from the Prince he meant to
stop at the Isle of Wight. It is commonly said
204 ENGLISH SEAMEN
that his officers advised him to go in and take
Plymouth. There is no evidence for this. The
island would have been a far more useful position
for them.
At dark that Friday night the beacons were
seen blazing all up the coast and inland on the tops
of the hills. They crept on slowly through Satur-
day, with reduced canvas, feeling their way — ^not a
sail to be seen. At midnight a pinnace brought in
a fishing boat, from which they learnt that on the
sight of the signal fires the English had come out
that morning from Plymouth. Presently, when
the moon rose, they saw sails passing between them
and the land. With daybreak the whole scene
became visible, and the curtain lifted on the first
act of the drama. The Armada was between Eame
Head and the Eddystone, or a little to the west of
it. Plymouth Sound was right open to their left.
The breeze, which had dropped in the night, was
freshening from the south-west, and right ahead of
them, outside the Mew Stone, were eleven ships
manoeuvring to recover the wind. Towards the
land were some forty others, of various sizes, and
this formed, as far as they could see, the whole
EngUsh force. In numbers the Spaniards were
nearly three to one. In the size of the ships there
was no comparison. With these advantages the
Duke decided to engage, and a signal was made to
hold the wind and keep the enemy apart. The
eleven ships ahead were Howard's squadron ; those
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 205
inside were Drake and the adventurers. With some
surprise the Spanish ofl&oers saw Howard reach
easily to windward out of range and join Drake.
The whole EngUsh fleet then passed out close-
hauled in line behind them and swept along their
rear, using guns more powerful than theirs and
pouring in broadsides from safe distance with
deadly eflfect. Recalde, with Alonzo de Leyva and
Oquendo, who came to his help, tried desperately
to close ; but they could make nothing of it. They
were out-sailed and out-cannoned. The English
fired five shots to one of theirs, and the effect was
the more destructive because, as with Rodney's
action at Dominica, the gaUeons were crowded with
troops, and shot and splinters told terribly among
them.
The experience was new and not agreeable.
Recalde's division was badly cut up, and a Spaniard
present observes that certain ofl&cers showed cow-
ardice — a hit at the Duke, who had kept out of
fire. The action lasted till four in the afternoon.
The wind was then freshening fast and the sea
rising. Both fleets had by this time passed the
Sound, and the Duke, seeing that nothing could
be done, signalled to bear away up Channel, the
English following two miles astern. Recalde's
own ship had been an especial sufferer. She was
observed to be leaking badly, to drop behind, and
to be in danger of capture. Pedro de Valdez wore
round to help him in the Gapitana^ of the Anda-
2o6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
lusian squadron, fouled the Santa Gatalina in
turning, broke his bowsprit and foretopmast, and
became unmanageable. The Andalusian Gapi-
tana was one of the finest ships in the Spanish
fleet, and Don Pedro one of the ablest and most
popular commanders. She had 500 men on
board, a large sum of money, and, among other
treasures, a box of jewel-hilted swords, which *
Philip was sending over to the English Catholic
peers. But it was growing dark. Sea and sky
looked ugly. The Duke was flurried, and signalled
to go on and leave Don Pedro to his fate. Alonzo
de Leyva and Oquendo rushed on board the San
Martin to protest. It was no use. Diego Florez
said he could not risk the safety of the fleet for a
single officer. The deserted Capitana made a
brave defence, but could not save herself, and fell,
with the jewelled swords, 50,000 ducats, and a wel-
come supply of powder, into Drake's hands.
Off the Start there was a fresh disaster. Every
one was in ill-humour. A quarrel broke out between
the soldiers and seamen in Oquendo's galleon. He
was himself still absent. Some wretch or other
flung a torch into the powder magazine and jumped
overboard. The deck was blown off, and 200
men along with it.
Two such accidents following an unsuccessful
engagement did not tend to reconcile the Spaniards
to the Duke's command. Pedro de Valdez was
universally loved and honoured, and hi& desertion
. . .» ^'i\
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 207
in the face of an enemy so inferior in numbers
was regarded as scandalous poltroonery. Monday
morning broke hea^dly. The wind was gone, but
there was still a considerable swell. The English
were hull down behind. The day was spent in
repairing damages and nailing lead over the shot-
holes. Eecalde was moved to the front, to be out
of harm's way, and De Leyva took his post in the
rear.
At sunset they were outside Portland. The
English had come up within a league ; but it was
now dead calm, and they drifted apart in the tide.
The Duke thought of nothing, but at midnight the
Spanish officers stirred him out of his sleep to urge
him to set his great galleasses to work ; now was
their chance. The dawn brought a chance still
better, for it brought an east wind, and the Spani-
ards had now the weather-gage. Could they once
close and grapple with the English ships, their supe-
rior numbers would then assure them a victory, and
Howard, being to leeward and inshore, would have
to pass through the middle of the Spanish line to
recover his advantage. However, it was the same
story. The Spaniards could not use an opportunity
when they had one. New-modelled for superiority
of sailing, the English ships had the same advan-
tage over the galleons as the steam cruisers would
have over the old three-deckers. While the breeze
held they went where they pleased. The Spaniards
were out-sailed, out-matched, crushed by guns of
2o8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
longer range than theirs. Their own shot flew
high over the low English hulls, while every ball
found its way through their own towering sides.
This time the San Martin was in the thick of it.
Her double timbers were ripped and torn ; the holy
standard was cut in two ; the water poured through
the shot-holes. The men lost their nerve. In such
ships as had no gentlemen on board notable signs
were observed of flinching.
At the end of that day's fighting the English
powder gave out. Two days' service had been the
limit of the Queen's allowance. Howard had
pressed for a more liberal supply at the last
moment, and had received the characteristic
answer that he must state precisely how much he
wanted before more could be sent. The lighting of
the beacons had quickened the ofl&cial pulse a little.
A small addition had been despatched to Weymouth
or Poole, and no more could be done till it arrived.
The Duke, meanwhile, was left to smooth his
ruffled plumes and drift on upon his way. But by
this time England was awake. Fresh privateers,
with powder, meat, bread, fruit, anything that they
could bring, were pouring out from the Dorsetshire
harbours. Sir George Carey had come from the
Needles in time to share the honours of the last
battle, ' round shot,' as he said, ' flying thick as
musket balls in a skirmish on land.'
The Duke had observed uneasily from the San
Martin's deck that his pursuers were growing
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 209
numerous. He had made up his mind definitely
to go for the Isle of Wight, shelter his fleet in the
Solent, land 10,000 men in the island, and stand
on his defence till he heard from Parma. He must
fight another battle ; but, cut up as he had been,
he had as yet lost but two ships, and those by ac-
cident. He might fairly hope to force his way in
with help from above, for which he had special
reason to look in the next engagement. Wednes-
day was a breathless calm. The EngUsh were
taking in their supplies. The Armada lay still,
repairing damages. Thursday would be St.
Dominic's Day. St. Dominic belonged to the
Duke's own family, and was his patron saint. St.
Dominic, he felt sure, would now stand by his
kinsman.
The morning broke with a light air. The
English would be less able to move, and with the
help of the galleasses he might hope to come to
close quarters at last. Howard seemed inclined to
give him his wish. With just wind enough to move
the Lord Admiral led in the ArJc Baleigh straight
down on the Spanish centre. The Ark outsailed
her consorts and found herself alone with the gal-
leons all round her. At that moment the wind
dropped. The Spanish boarding-parties were at
their posts. The tops were manned with mus-
keteers, the grappling irons all prepared to fling
into the ArJc's rigging. In imagination the
English admiral was their own. But each day's
2IO ENGLISH SEAMEN
experience was to teach them a new lesson. Eleven
boats dropped from the Arl's sides and took her
in tow. The breeze rose again as she began to
move. Her sails filled, and she slipped away
through the water, leaving the Spaniards las if they
were at anchor, staring in helpless amazement.
The wind brought up Drake and the rest, and then
began again the terrible cannonade from which the
Armada had already suffered so frightfully. It
seemed that morning as if the English were using
guns of even heavier metal than on either of the
preceding days. The armament had not been
changed. The gro\\iih was in their own frightened
imagination. The Duke had other causes for un-
easiness. His own magazines were also giving out
under the unexpected demands upon them. One
battle was the utmost which he had looked for. He
had fought three, and the end was no nearer than
before. With resolution he might still have made
his way into St. Helen's roads, for the English were
evidently afraid to close with him. But when St.
Dominic, too, failed him he lost his head. He
lost his heart, and losing heart he lost all. In
the Solent he would have been comparatively
safe, and he could easily have taken the Isle of
Wight ; but his one thought now was to find safety
under Panna's gaberdine and make for Calais or
Dunkirk. He supposed Parma to have already
embarked, on hearing of his coming, with a second
armed fleet, and in condition for immediate action.
SAILING OF THE ARMADA 211
He sent on another pinnace, pressing for help,
pressing for ammunition, and fly-boats to protect
the galleons ; and Parma was himself looking to be
supplied from the Armada, with no second fleet at
all, only a flotilla of river barges which would need
a week's work to be prepared for the crossing.
Philip had provided a splendid fleet, a splendid
army, and the finest sailors in the world except the
English. He had failed to realise that the grandest
preparations are useless with a fool to command.
The poor Duke was less to blame than his master.
An office had been thrust upon him for which he
knew that he had not a single qualification. His
one anxiety was to find Parma, lay the weight on
Parma's shoulders, and so have done with it.
On Friday he was left alone to make his way up
Channel towards the French shore. The English
still followed, but he counted that in Calais roads
he would be in French waters, where they would
not dare to meddle with him. They would then,
he thought, go home and annoy him no further.
As he dropped anchor in the dusk outside Calais on
Saturday evening he saw, to his disgust, that the
endemoniada gente — the infernal devils — as he
called them, had brought up at the same moment
with himself, half a league astern of him. His one
trust was in the Prince of Parma, and Parma at any
rate was now within touch.
p 2
212 ENGLISH SEAMEN
LECTUEE IX
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA
In the gallery at Madrid there is a picture, painted
by Titian, representing the Genius of Spain coming
to the delivery of the afflicted Bride of Christ.
Titian was dead, but the temper of the age survived,
and in the study of that great picture you will see
the spirit in which the Spanish nation had set out
for the conquest of England. The scene is the sea-
shore. The Church a naked Andromeda, with
dishevelled hair, fastened to the trunk of an ancient
disbranched tree. The cross hes at her feet, the
cup overturned, the serpents of heresy biting at her
from behind with uphfted crests. Coming on before
a leading breeze is the sea monster, the Moslem
fleet, eager for their prey ; while in front is Perseus,
the Genius of Spain, banner in hand, with the
legions of the faithful laying not raiment before
him, but shield and helmet, the apparel of war for
the Lady of Nations to clothe herself with strength
and smite her foes.
In the Armada the crusading enthusiasm had
reached its point and focus. England was the
;stake to which the Virgin, the daughter of Sion,
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 213
was bound in captivity. Perseus had come at last
in the person of the Duke of Medina Sidonia, and
w4th him all that was best and brightest in the
countrymen of Cervantes, to break her bonds and
replace her on her throne. They had sailed into
the Channel in pious hope, with the blessed banner
waving over their heads.
To be the executor of the decrees of Providence
is a lofty ambition, but men in a state of high
emotion overlook the precautions which are not to
be dispensed with even on the sublimest of errands.
Don Quixote, when he set out to redress the wrongs
of humanity, forgot that a change of linen might be
necessary, and that he must take money with him
to pay his hotel bills. Philip II., in sending the
Armada to England, and confident in supernatural
protection, imagined an unresisted triumphal pro-
cession. He forgot that contractors might be
rascals, that water four months in the casks in
a hot climate turned putrid, and that putrid
water would poison his ships' companies, though
his crews were companies of angels. He forgot
that the servants of the evil one might fight for
their mistress after all, and that he must send
adequate supplies of powder, and, worst forgetful-
ness of all, that a great naval expedition required a
leader who understood his business. Perseus, in
the shape of the Duke of Medina Sidonia, after a
week of disastrous battles, found himself at the end
of it in an exposed roadstead, where he ought never
214 ENGLISH SEAMEN
to have been, nine-tenths of his provisions thrown
overboard as unfit for food, his ammunition ex-
hausted by the unforeseen demands upon it, the
seamen and soldiers harassed and dispirited, officers
the whole week without sleep, and the enemy, who
had hunted him from Plymouth to Calais, anchored
within half a league of him.
Still, after all his misadventures, he had brought
the fleet, if not to the North Foreland, yet within
a few miles of it, and to outward appearance not
materially injured. Two of the galleons had been
taken ; a third, the Santa Aiia^ had strayed ; and
his galleys had left him, being foimd too weak for
the Channel sea; but the great armament had
reached its destination substantially uninjiured so
far as Enghsh eyes could see. Hundreds of men
had been killed and hundreds more wounded, and
the spirit of the rest had been shaken. But the
loss of life could only be conjectured on board the
Enghsh fleet. The Enghsh admiral could only see
that the Duke was now in touch with Parma.
Parma, they knew, had an army at Dunkirk with
him, which was to cross to England. He had been
collecting men, barges, and transports all the winter
and spring, and the backward state of Parma's
preparations could not be anticipated, still less
relied upon. The Calais anchorage was unsafe ;
but at that season of the year, especially after a wet
summer, the weather usually settled ; and to attack
the Spaniards in a French port might be dangerous
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 215
for many reasons. It was uncertain after the day
of the Barricades whether the Duke of Guise or
Henry of Valois was master of France, and a
violation of the neutrahty laws might easily at that
moment bring Guise and France into the field on
the Spaniards' side. It was, no doubt, with some
such expectation that the Duke and his advisers
had chosen Calais as the point at which to bring
up. It was now Saturday, the 7th of August. The
governor of the town came oflE in the evening to
the 8an Martin. He expressed surprise to see the
Spanish fleet in so exposed a position, but he was
profuse in his offers of service. Anything which the
Duke required should be provided, especially every
facility for communicating with Dunkirk and Parma.
The Duke thanked him, said that he supposed
Parma to be already embarked with his troops, ready
for the passage, and that his own stay in the roads
would be but brief. On Monday morning at latest he
expected that the attempt to cross would be made.
The governor took his leave, and the Duke, relieved
from his anxieties, was left to a peaceful night. He
was disturbed on the Sunday morning by an express
from Parma informing him that, so far from being
embarked, the army could not be ready for a fort-
night. The barges were not in condition for sea.
The troops were in camp. The arms and stores
were on the quays at Dunkirk. As for the fly-boats
and ammunition which the Duke had asked for, he
had none to spare. He had himself looked to be
2i6 ENGLISH SEAMEN
supplied from the Annada. He promised to use his.
best expedition, but the Duke, meanwhile, must see
to the safety of the fleet.
Unwelcome news to a harassed landsman thrust
into the position of an admiral and eager to be rid
of his responsibilities. If by evil fortune the north-
wester should come down upon him, with the shoals
and sandbanks close under his lee, he would be in a
bad way. Nor was the view behind him calculated
for comfort. There lay the enemy almost within
gunshot, who, though scarcely more than half his
numbers, had hunted him like a pack of blood-
hounds, and, worse than all, in double strength ; for
the Thames squadron — three Queen's ships and
thirty London adventurers — under Lord H. Sey-
mour and Sir John Hawkins, had crossed in the
night. There they were between him and Cape
Grisnez, and the reinforcement meant plainly
enough that mischief was in the wind.
After a week so trying the Spanish crews would
have been glad of a Sunday's rest if they could
have had it ; but the rough handling which they
had gone through had thrown everything into
disorder. The sick and wounded had to be cared
for, torn rigging looked to, splintered timbers
mended, decks scoured, and guns and arms cleaned
up and put to rights. And so it was that no rest
could be allowed ; so much had to be done, and so
busy was everyone, that the usual rations were not
served out and the Sunday was kept as a fast. In
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 217
the afternoon the stewards went ashore for fresh
meat and vegetables. They came back with their
boats , loaded, and the prospect seemed a little less
gloomy. Suddenly, as the Duke and a group of
officers were watching the English fleet from the
San Martin's poop deck, a small smart pinnace,
carrying a gun in her bow, shot out from Howard's
lines, bore down on the San Martin^ sailed round
her, sending in a shot or two as she passed, and
went off unhurt. The Spanish officers could not
help admiring such airy impertinence. Hugo de
Mon9ada sent a ball after the pinnace, which went
through her mainsail, but did no damage, and the
pinnace again disappeared behind the English
ships.
So a Spanish officer describes the scene. The
English story says nothing of the pinnace ; but she
doubtless came and went as the Spaniard says, and
for sufficient purpose. The English, too, were in
straits, though the Duke did not dream of it. You
will remember that the last supplies which the
Queen had allowed to the fleet had been issued in
the middle of June. They were to serve for a
month, and the contractors were forbidden to pre-
pare more. The Queen had clung to her hope that
her differences with Philip were to be settled by the
Commission at Ostend; and she feared that if
Drake and Howard were too well furnished they
would venture some fresh rash stroke on the coast
of Spain, which might mar the negotiations. Their
2i8 ENGLISH SEAMEN
month's provisions had been stretched to serve for
six weeks, and when the Armada appeared but two
full days' rations remained. On these they had
fought their way up Channel. Something had been
brought out by private exertion on the Dorsetshire
coast, and Seymour had, perhaps, brought a little
more. But they were still in extremity. The
contractors had warned the Government that they
could provide nothing without notice, and notice
had not been given. The adventurers were in
better state, having been equipped by private
owners. But the Queen's ships in a day or two
more must either go home or their crews would
be starving. They had been on reduced rations for
near two months. Worse than that, they were
still poisoned by the sour beer. The Queen had
changed her mind so often, now ordering the fleet
to prepare for sea, then recalling her instructions
and paying off the men, that those whom Howard
had with him had been enlisted in haste, had come
on board as they were, and their clothes were hang-
ing in rags on them. The fighting and the sight
of the flying Spaniards were meat and drink, and
clothing too, and had made them careless of all else-
There was no fear of mutiny ; but there was a limit
to the toughest endurance. If the Armada was
left undisturbed a long struggle might be still before
them. The enemy w^ould recover from its flurry,
and Parma would come out from Dunkirk. To
attack them directly in French waters might lead
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 219
to perilous complications, while delay meant famine.
The Spanish fleet had to be started from the roads
in some way. Done it must be, and done imme-
diately.
Then, on that same Sunday afternoon a memor-
able council of war was held in the Arh's main
cabin. Howard, Drake, Seymour, Hawkins, Martin
Frobisher, and two or three others met to consult,
knowing that on them at that moment the liberties
of England were depending. Their resolution was
taken promptly. There was no time for talk.
After nightfall a strong flood tide would be setting
up along shore to the Spanish anchorage. They
would try what could be done with fire ships, and
the excursion of the pinnace, which was taken for
bravado, was probably for a survey of the Armada's
exact position. Meantime eight useless vessels
were coated with pitch — hulls, spars, and rigging.
Pitch was poured on the decks and over the sides,
and parties were told ofi to steer them to their
destination and then fire and leave them.
The hours stole on, and twilight passed into
dark. The night was without a moon. The Duke
paced his deck late with uneasy sense of danger.
He observed lights moving up and down the
English lines, and imagining that the endemoniada
gente — the infernal devils — might be up to mischief,
ordered a sharp look-out. A faint westerly air was
curling the water, and towards midnight the
watchers on board the galleons made out dimly
220 ENGLISH SEAMEN
several ships which seemed to be drifting down
upon them. Their experience since the action off
Plymouth had been so strange and unlooked for
that anything unintelligible w^hich the English did
was alarming.
The phantom forms drew nearer, and were
almost among them when they broke into a blaze
from water-line to truck, and the two fleets w^ere
seen by the lurid hght of the conflagration; the
anchorage, the walls and window^s of Calais, and
the sea shining red far as eye could reach,
as if the ocean itself was burning. Among the
dangers which they might have to encoimter,
English fireworks had been especially dreaded by
the Spaniards. Fire ships — a fit device of heretics
— had worked havoc among the Spanish troops,
when the bridge was blown up, at Antwerp. They
imagined that similar infernal machines were
approaching the Armada. A capable commandei*
would have sent a few launches to grapple the
burning hulks, which of course were now deserted,
and tow them out of harm's way. Spanish sailors
were not cowards, and would not have flinched
from duty because it might be dangerous ; but the
Duke and Diego Florez lost their heads again. A
signal gun from the San Martin ordered the whole
fleet to slip their cables and stand out to sea.
Orders given in panic are doubly unwise, for
they spread the terror in which they originate.
The danger from the fire ships was chiefly from
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 221
the effect on the imagination, for they appear to
have drifted by and done no real injury. And it
speaks well for the seamanship and courage of the
Spaniards that they were able, crowded together as
they were, at midnight and in sudden alarm to set
their canvas and clear out without running into
one another. They buoyed their cables, expecting
to return for them at daylight, and with only a
single accident, to be mentioned directly, they
executed successfully a really difficult manoeuvre.
The Duke was deUghted with himself. The
fire ships burnt harmlessly out. He had baffled
the inventions of the endemoniada gente. He
brought up a league outside the harbour, and
supposed that the whole Armada had done the
same. Unluckily for himself, he found it at daylight
divided into two bodies. The San Martin with
forty of the best appointed of the galleons were
riding together at their anchors. The rest, two-
thirds of the whole, having no second anchors
ready, and inexperienced in Channel tides and
currents, had been lying to. The west wind was
blo^\^ng up. Without seeing where they were
going they had drifted to leeward, and were two
leagues off, towards GraveUnes, dangerously near
the shore. The Duke was too ignorant to realise
the full peril of his situation. He signalled to
them to return and rejoin him. As the wind and
tide stood it was impossible. He proposed to
follow them. The pilots told him that if he did
222 ENGLISH SEAMEN
the whole fleet might be lost on the banks.
Towards the land the look of things was not more
encouraging.
One accident only had happened the night
before. The Capitana galleass, with Don Hugo de
Mon5ada and eight hundred men on board, had
fouled her helm in a cable in getting under way
and had become unmanageable. The galley slaves
disobeyed orders, or else Don Hugo was as incom-
petent as his commander-in-chief. The galleass
had gone on the sands, and as the tide ebbed had
fallen over on her side. Howard, seeing her con-
dition, had followed her in the ArJc with four or
five other of the Queen's ships, and was furiously
attacking her with his boats, careless of neutrality
laws. Howard's theory was, as he said, to pluck
the feathers one by one from the Spaniard's wing,
and here was a feather worth picking up. The
galleass was the most splendid vessel of her kind
afloat, Don Hugo one of the greatest of Spanish
grandees.
Howard was making a double mistake. He
took the galleass at last, after three hours' fighting.
Don Hugo was killed by a musket ball. The
vessel was plundered, and Howard's men took
possession, meaning to carry her away when the
tide rose. The French authorities ordered him off,
threatening to fire upon him ; and after wasting the
forenoon, he was obliged at last to leave her where
she lay. Worse than this, he had lost • three
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 225
precious hours, and had lost along with them, in
the opinion of the Prince of Parma, the honours of
the great day.
Drake and Hawkins knew better than to w^aste
time plucking single feathers. The fire ships had
been more effective than they could have dared to
hope. The enemy was broken up. The Duke was
shorn of half his strength, and the Lord had de-
livered him into their hand. He had got under
w^ay, still signalling wildly, and uncertain in w^hich
direction to turn. His uncertainties w^ere ended
for him by seeing Drake bearing down upon him
with the whole English fleet, save those which were
loitering about the galleass. The English had now
the advantage of numbers. The superiority of
their guns he knew^ already, and their greater
speed allowed him no hope to escape a battle.
Forty ships alone were left to him to defend the
banner of the crusade and the honour of Castile ;
but those forty were the largest and the most power-
fully armed and manned that he had, and on board
them w^ere Oquendo, De Leyva, Eecalde, and
Bretandona, the best officers in the Spanish navy
next to the lost Don Pedro.
It was now or never for England. The scene
of the action which was to decide the future of
Europe was between Calais and Dunkirk, a few
miles off shore, and within sight of Parma's camp.
There was no more manoeuvring for the weather-
gage, no more fighting at long range. Drake
224 ENGLISH SEAMEN
dashed straight upon his prey as the falcon stoops
upon its quarry. A chance had fallen to him
which might never return ; not for the vain
distinction of carrying prizes into English ports,
not for the ray of honour which would fall on him
if he could carry off the sacred banner itself and
hang it in the Abbey at Westminster, but a chance
so to handle the Annada that it should never be
seen again in EngHsh waters, and deal such a blow
on PhiUp that the Spanish Empire should reel with
it. The English ships had the same superiority
over the galleons which steamers have now over
sailing vessels. They had twice the speed; they
could he two points nearer to the wind. Sweeping
round them at cable's length, crowding them in
one upon the other, yet never once giving them a
chance to grapple, they hurled in their cataracts of
round shot. Short as was the powder supply, there
was no sparing it that morning. The hours went
on, and still the battle raged, if battle it could
be called where the blows were all dealt on one
side and the suffering was all on the other. Never
on sea or land did the Spaniards show themselves
worthier of their great name than on that day.
But from the first they could do nothing. It .was
said afterwards in Spain that the Duke showed the
white feather, that he charged his pilot to keep
him out of harm's way, that he shut himself up in
his cabin, buried in woolpacks, and so on. The
Duke had faults enough, but poltroonery was not
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 225
one of them. He, who till he entered the English
Channel had never been in action on sea or land,
found himself, as he said, in the midst of the most
furious engagement recorded in the history of the
world. As to being out of harm's way, the
standard at his masthead drew the hottest of the
fire upon him. The San Martin's timbers were of
oak and a foot thick, but the shot, he said, went
through them enough to shatter a rock. Her deck
was a slaughterhouse ; half his company were
killed or wounded, and no more would have been
heard or seen of the San Martin or her commander
had not Oquendo and De Leyva pushed in to the
rescue and enabled him to creep away under their
cover. He himself saw nothing more of the action
after this. The smoke, he said, was so thick that
he could make out nothing, even from his mast-
head. But all round it was but a repetition of the
same scene. The Spanish shot flew high, as before,
above the low English hulls, and they were them-
selves helpless butts to the English guns. And it
is noticeable and supremely creditable to them that
not a single galleon struck her colours. One of
them, after a long duel with an Enghshman, was.
on the point of sinking. An English officer,
admiring the courage which the Spaniards had
shown, ran out upon his bowsprit, told them that
they had done all which became men, and urged
them to surrender and save their lives. For
answer they cursed the English as cowards and
Q
226 ENGLISH SEAMEN
chickens because they refused to close- The
oflBcer was shot. His fall brought a last broadside
on them, which finished the work. They went
down, and the water closed over them. Rather
death to the soldiers of the Cross than surrender to
a heretic.
The deadly hail rained on. In some ships blood
was seen streaming out of the scupper-holes. Yet
there was no yielding; all ranks showed equal
heroism. The priests went up and down in the
midst of the carnage, holding the crucifix before
the eyes of the dying. At midday Howard came
up to claim a second share in a victory which was
no longer doubtful. Towards the afternoon the
Spanish fire slackened. Their powder was gone,
and they could make no return to the cannonade
which was still overwhelming them. They ad-
mitted freely afterwards that if the attack had
been continued but two hours more they must all
have struck or gone ashore. But the English
magazines were empty also ; the last cartridge
was shot away, and the battle ended from mere
inability to keep it up. It had been fought on both
sides with peculiar determination. In the English
there was the accumulated resentment of thirty
years of menace to their country and their creed,
with the enemy in tangible shape at last to be
caught and grappled with; in the Spanish, the
sense that if their cause had not brought them
the help they looked for from above, the honom*
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 227
and faith of Castile should not suffer in their
hands.
It was over. The EngUsh drew off, regretting
that their thrifty mistress had Hmited their means
of fighting for her, and so obhged them to leave
their work half done. When the cannon ceased
the wind rose, the smoke rolled away, and in the
level light of the sunset they could see the results
of the action.
A galleon in Eecalde's squadron was sinking
ynth all hands. The San Philip and the San
Matteo were drifting dismasted towards the Dutch
coast, where they were afterwards wrecked. Those
which were left with canvas still showing were
crawling slowly after their comrades who had not
been engaged, the spars and rigging so cut up that
they could scarce bear their sails. The loss of life
could only be conjectured, but it had been obviously
terrible. The nor'-wester was blowing up and was
pressing the wounded ships upon the shoals, from
which, if it held, it seemed impossible in their
crippled state they would be able to work off.
In this condition Drake left them for the night,
not to rest, but from any quarter to collect, if he
could, more food and powder. The snake had been
scotched, but not killed. More than half the great
fleet were far away, untouched by shot, perhaps
able to fight a second battle if they recovered heart.
To follow, to drive them on the banks if the wind
held, or into the North Sea, anywhere so that he
Q 2
228 ENGLISH SEAMEN
left them no chance of joining hands with Parma
again, and to use the time before they had rallied
from his blows, that was the present necessity. His
own poor fellows were famished and in rags ; but
neither he nor they had leisure to think of them-
selves. There was but one thought in the whole
of them, to be again in chase of the flying foe.
Howard was resolute as Drake. All that was
possible was swiftly done. Seymour and the
Thames squadron were to stay in the Straits and
watch Parma. From every attainable source food
and powder were collected for the rest — far short in
both ways of what ought to have been, but, as Drake
said, * we were resolved to put on a brag and go on
as if we needed nothing.' Before dawn the admiral
and he were again off on the chase.
The brag was unneeded. What man could do
had been done, and the rest was left to the ele-
ments. Never again could Spanish seamen be
brought to face the EngUsh guns with Medina
Sidonia to lead them. They had a fool at their
head. The Invisible Powers in whom they had
been taught to trust had deserted them. Their
confidence was gone and their spirit broken.
Drearily the morning broke on the Duke and his
consorts the day after the battle. The Armada had
collected in the night. The nor'-wester had fresh-
ened to a gale, and they were labouring heavily
along, making fatal leeway towards the shoals.
It was St. Lawrence's Day, PhiUp's patron
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 229
saint, whose shoulder-bone he had lately added to
the treasures of the Escurial ; but St. Lawrence
was as heedless as St. Dominic. The Sail Martin
had but six fathoms under her. Those nearer to
the land signalled five, and right before them they
<30uld see the brown foam of the breakers curling
over the sands, while on their weather-beam, a mile
distant and clinging to them like the shadow of
death, were the English ships which had pursued
them from Plymouth like the dogs of the Furies.
The Spanish sailors and soldiers had been without
food since the evening when they anchored at
Calais. All Sunday they had been at work, no rest
allowed them to eat. On the Sunday night they
had been stirred out of their sleep by the fire ships.
Monday they had been fighting, and Monday night
<)ommitting their dead to the sea. Now they
seemed advancing directly upon inevitable destruc-
tion. As the wind stood there was still room for
them to wear and thus escape the banks, but they
would then have to face the enemy, who seemed
only refraining from attacking them because while
they continued on their present course the winds
and waves would finish the work without help from
man. Kecalde, De Leyva, Oquendo, and other
officers were sent for to the San Martin to consult.
Oquendo came last. ' Ah, Seiior Oquendo,' said the
Duke as the heroic Biscay an stepped on board, * que
haremos ? ' (what shall we do ?) * Let your Ex-
-cellency bid load the guns again,' was Oquendo's
230 ENGLISH SEAMEN
gallant answer. It could not be. De Leyva him-
self said that the men would not fight the Enghsh
again. Florez advised surrender. The Duke
wavered. It was said that a boat was actually
lowered to go ofi to Howard and make terms, and
that Oquendo swore that if the boat left the San
Martin on such an errand he would fling Florez
into the sea. Oquendo's advice would have, per-
haps, been the safest if the Duke could have taken
it. There were still seventy ships in the Armada
little hurt. The Enghsh were ^ bragging,' as Drake
said, and in no condition themselves for another
serious engagement. But the temper of the entire
fleet made a courageous course impossible. There
was but one Oquendo. Disciphne was gone. The
soldiers in their desperation had taken the com-
mand out of the hands of the seamen. Officers
and men alike abandoned hope, and, with no human
prospect of salvation left to them, they flung them-
selves on their knees upon the decks and prayed the
Almighty to have pity on them. But two weeks
were gone since they had knelt on those same
decks on the first sight of the Enghsh shore to
thank Him for having brought them so far on an
enterprise so glorious. Two weeks ; and what
weeks ! Wrecked, torn by cannon shot, ten thou-
sand of them dead or dying — for this was the
estimated loss by battle — the survivors could now
but pray to be delivered from a miserable death by
the elements. In cyclones the wind often changes.
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 231
suddenly back from north-west to west, from west
to south. At that moment, as if in answer to their
petition, one of these sudden shifts of wind saved
them from the innnediate peril. The gale backed
round to S.S.W., and ceased to press them on the
shoals. They could ease their sheets, draw off
into open water, and steer a course up the middle
of the North Sea.
So only that they went north, Drake was con-
tent to leave them unmolested. Once away into
the high latitudes they might go where they would.
Neither Howard nor he, in the low state of their
own magazines, desired any unnecessary fighting.
If the Armada turned back they must close mth it.
If it held its present course they must follow it till
they could be assured it would communicate no
more for that summer with the Prince of Parma.
Drake thought they would perhaps make for the
Baltic or some port in Norway. They would meet
no hospitable reception from either Swedes or
Danes, but they would probably try. One only
imminent danger remained to be provided against.
If they turned into the Forth, it was still possible
for the Spaniards to redeem their defeat, and even
yet shake Elizabeth's throne. Among the many
plans which had been formed for the invasion of
England, a landing in Scotland had long been the
favourite. Guise had always preferred Scotland
when it was intended that Guise should be the
leader. Santa Cruz had been in close correspon-
232 ENGLISH SEAMEN
dence with Guise on this very subject, and many
officers in the Armada must have been acquainted
with Santa Cruz's views. The Scotch Cathoho
nobles were still savage at Mary Stuart's execution,
and had the Armada anchored in Leith Eoads with
twenty thousand men, half a million ducats, and a
Santa Cruz at its head, it might have kindled a
blaze at that moment from John o' Groat's Land
to the Border,
But no such purpose occurred to the Duke of
Medina Sidonia. He probably knew nothing at all
of Scotland or its parties. Among the many de-
ficiencies which he had pleaded to Philip as un-
fitting him for the command, he had said that Santa
Cruz had acquaintances among the Enghsh and
Scotch peers. He had himself none. The small
information which he had of anything did not go
beyond his orange gardens and his tunny fishing.
His chief merit was that he was conscious of his
incapacity ; and, detesting a service into which he
had been fooled by a hysterical nun, his only
anxiety was to carry home the still considerable
fleet which had been trusted to him without further
loss. Beyond Scotland and the Scotch isles there
was the open ocean, and in the open ocean there
were no sandbanks and no English guns. Thus,
with all sail set he went on before the wind. Drake
and Howard attended him till they had seen him
past the Forth, and knew then that there was no
more to fear. It was time to see to the wants of
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 233
their own poor fellows, who had endured so patiently
and fought so magnificently. On the 13th of August
they saw the last of the Armada, turned back, and
made their way to the Thames.
But the story has yet to be told of the final fate
of the great ' enterprise of England ' (the ' empresa
de Inglaterra '), the object of so many prayers, on
which the hopes of the CathoHc world had been so
long and passionately fixed. It had been osten-
tatiously a religious crusade. The preparations had
been attended with pecuhar solemnities. In the
eyes of the faithful it was to be the execution of
Divine justice on a wicked princess and a wicked
people. In the eyes of millions whose convictions
were less decided it was an appeal to God's judg-
ment to decide between the Eeformation and the
Pope. There was an appropriateness, therefore,
if due to accident, that other causes besides the
action of man should have combined in its over-
throw.
The Spaniards were experienced sailors ; a voy-
age round the Orkneys and round Ireland to Spain
might be tedious, but at that season of the year
need not have seemed either dangerous or difiicult.
On inquiry, however, it was found that the con-
dition of the fleet was seriously alarming. The
provisions placed on board at Lisbon had been found
unfit for food, and almost all had been thrown into
the sea. The fresh stores taken in at Corunna had
been consumed, and it was found that at the present
234 ENGLISH SEAMEN
rate there would be nothing left in a fortnight.
Worse than all, the water-casks refilled there had
been carelessly stowed. They had been shot
through in the fighting and were empty ; while of
clothing or other comforts for the cold regions which
they were entering no thought had been taken.
The mules and horses w^ere flung overboard, and
Scotch smacks, which had followed the retreat-
ing fleet, reported that they had sailed for miles
through floating carcases.
The rations w^ere reduced for each man to a
daily half-pound of biscuit, a pint of water, and a
pint of vdne. Thus, sick and hungry, the wounded
left to the care of a medical ofiicer, who went from
ship to ship, the subjects of so many prayers were
left to encounter the climate of the North Atlantic.
The Duke blamed all but himself ; he hanged one
poor captain for neglect of orders, and would have
hanged another had he dared; but his authority
was gone. They passed the Orkneys in a single
body. They then parted, it was said in a fog ; but
each commander had to look out for himself and his
men. In many ships water must be had somewhere,
or they would die. The Sail Martin^ with sixty
consorts, went north to the sixtieth parallel. From
that height the pilots promised to take them down
clear of the coast. The wind still clung to the west,
each day blowing harder than the last. When they
braced round to it their wounded spars gave way.
Their rigging parted. With the greatest difl&culty
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 235
they made at last sufficient offing, and rolled down
somehow out of sight of land, dipping their yards in
the enormous seas. Of the rest, one or two went
down among the Western Isles and became wrecks
there, their crews, or part of them, making their
way through Scotland to Flanders. Others went
north to Shetland or the Faroe Islands. Between
thirty and forty were tempted in upon the Irish
coasts. There were Irishmen in the fleet, who must
have told them that they would find the water
there for which they were perishing, safe harbours,
and a friendly Catholic people ; and they found
either harbours which they could not reach or sea-
washed sands and reefs. They were all wrecked at
various places between Donegal and the Blaskets.
Something like eight thousand half-drowned
wretches struggled on shore alive. Many were
gentlemen, richly dressed, with velvet coats, gold
chains, and rings. The common sailors and soldiers
had been paid their wages before they started, and
each had a bag of ducats lashed to his waist when
he landed through the surf. The wild Irish of the
coast, tempted by the booty, knocked unknown
numbers of them on the head with their battle-
axes, or stripped them naked and left them to die
of the cold. On one long sand strip in Sligo an
English officer counted eleven hundred bodies, and
he heard that there were as many more a few miles
distant.
The better-educated of the Ulster chiefs, the
236 ENGLISH SEAMEN
O'Eourke and O'Donnell, hurried down to stop the
butchery and spare Ireland the shame of murdering
helpless Catholic friends. Many — how many can-
not be said — found protection in their castles. But
even so it seeme,d as if some inexorable fate pursued
all who had sailed in that doomed expedition.
Alonzo de Leyva, with half a hundred young
Spanish nobles of high rank who were under his
special charge, made his way in a galleass into
Killibeg. He was himself disabled in landing.
O'Donnell received and took care of him and his
companions. After remaining in O'Donnell's castle
for a month he recovered. The weather appeared
to mend. The galleass was patched up, and De
Leyva ventured an attempt to make his way in her
to Scotland. He had passed the worst danger, and
Scotland was almost in sight ; but fate would have
its victims. The galleass struck a rock off Dunluce
and went to pieces, and Don Alonzo and the
princely youths who had sailed with him were
washed ashore all dead, to find an unmarked grave
in Antrim.
Most pitiful of all was the fate of those who fell
into the hands of the English garrisons in Galway
and Mayo. Galleons had found their way into
Galway Bay — one of them had reached Galway
itself — the crews half dead with famine and
offering a cask of wine for a cask of water. The
Galway townsmen were human, and tried to feed
^nd care for them. Most were too far gone to be
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 237
revived, and died of exhaustion. Some might have
recovered, but recovered they would be a danger to
the State. The English in the West of Ireland
were but a handful in the midst of a sullen, half-
conquered population. The ashes of the Desmond
rebellion were still smoking, and Dr. Sanders and
his Legatine Commission were fresh in immediate
memory. The defeat of the Armada in the
Channel could only have been vaguely heard of.
All that English officers could have accurately
known must have been that an enormous expedi-
tion had been sent to England by Philip to restore
the Pope ; and Spaniards, they found, were landing
in thousands in the midst of them with arms and
money; distressed for the moment, but sure, if
allowed time to get their strength again, to set
Connaught in a blaze. They had no fortresses to
hold so many prisoners, no means of feeding them,
no men to spare to escort them to Dublin. They
were responsible to the Queen's Government for
the safety of the country. The Spaniards had not
come on any errand of mercy to her or hers. The
stern order went out to kill them all wherever they
might be found, and two thousand or more were
shot, hanged, or put to the sword. Dreadful !
Yes, but war itself is dreadful and has its own
necessities.
The sixty ships which had followed the San
Martin succeeded at last in getting round Cape
Clear, but in a condition scarcely less miserable
238 ENGLISH SEAMEN
than that of their companions who had perished
in Ireland. Half their companies died — died
of untended wounds, hunger, thirst, and famine
fever. The survivors were moving skeletons, more
shadows and ghosts than living men, with scarce
strength left them to draw a rope or handle a
tiller. In some ships there was no water for
fourteen days. The weather in the lower latitudes
lost part of its violence, or not one of them would
have seen Spain again. As it was they drifted on
outside Scilly and into the Bay of Biscay, and in
the second week in September they dropped in one
by one. Kecalde, with better success than the
rest, made Corunna. The Duke, not knowing
where he was, found himself in sight of Corunna
also. The crew of the San Martin were prostrate,
and could not work her in. They signalled foy
help, but none came, and they dropped away to
leeward to Bilbao. Oquendo had fallen off still
farther to Santander, and the rest of the sixty
arrived in the following days at one or other of the
Biscay ports. On board them, of the thirty
thousand who had left those shores but two
months before in high hope and passionate en-
thusiasm, nine thousand only came back aUve — ^if
alive they could be called. It is touching to read
in a letter from Bilbao of their joy at warm Spanish
sun, the sight of the grapes on the white walls,
and the taste of fresh home bread and water again.
But it came too late to save them, and those
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 239
whose bodies might have rallied died of broken
hearts and disappointed dreams. Santa Cruz's old
companions could not survive the ruin of the
Spanish navy. Eecalde died two days after he
landed at Bilbao. Santander was Oquendo's home.
He had a wife and children there, but he refused
to see them, turned his face to the wall, and died
too. The common seamen and soldiers were too
weak to help themselves. They had to be left on
board the poisoned ships till hospitals could be
prepared to take them in. The authorities of
Church and State did all that men could do ; but
the case was past help, and before September
was out all but a few hundred needed no further
care.
Philip, it must be said for him, spared nothing
to relieve the misery. The widows and orphans
were pensioned by the State. The stroke which
had fallen was received with a dignified submission
to the inscrutable purposes of Heaven. Diego
Florez escaped with a brief imprisonment at Burgos.
None else were punished for faults which lay
chiefly in the King's own presumption in imagining
himself the instrument of Providence.
The Duke thought himself more sinned
against than sinning. He did not die, like
Eecalde or Oquendo, seeing no occasion for it. He
flung down his command and retired to his
palace at St. Lucan ; and so far was Phihp from
resenting the loss of the Armada on its commander,
240 ENGLISH SEAMEN
that he continued him in his governorship of Cadiz>
where Essex found him seven years later, and
where he ran from Essex as he had run from
Drake.
The Spaniards made no attempt to conceal the
greatness of their defeat. Unwdlling to allow that
the Upper Powers had been against them, they set
it frankly dowTi to the superior fighting powers of
the English.
The English themselves, the Prince of Parma
said, were modest in their victory. They thought
little of their own gallantry. To them the defeat
and destruction of the Spanish fleet was a declara-
tion of the Almighty in the cause of their country
and the Protestant faith. Both sides had appealed
to Heaven, and Heaven had spoken.
It was the turn of the tide. The wave of the
reconquest of the Netherlands ebbed from that
moment. Parma took no more towns from the
Hollanders. The Catholic peers and gentlemen of
England, who had held aloof from the Established
Church, waiting ad illud tempus for a reUgious
revolution, accepted the verdict of Providence.
They discovered that in Anglicanism they could
keep the faith of their fathers, yet remain in com-
munion with their Protestant fellow-countrjmien,
use the same liturgy, and pray in the same temples.
For the first time since Elizabeth's father broke
the bonds of Rome the English became a united
nation, joined in loyal enthusiasm for the Queen,
DEFEAT OF THE ARMADA 241
and were satisfied that thenceforward no Itahan
priest should tithe or toll in her dominions.
But all that, and all that* went with it, the
passing from Spain to England of the sceptre of
the seas, must be left to other lectures, or other
lecturers who have more years before them than I.
My own theme has been the poor Protestant
adventurers who fought through that perilous week
in the English Channel and saved their country
and their country's liberty.
rJllNTED IJY
SrO I I 1SW00D13 AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARB
LONDON
11